Saving Lester
by financebabe
Summary: Returning from a mission Lester finds holes in his memory and has to piece together what happened before he left. Along the way it becomes less about his mission and more about his heart.
1. Waking Up

_JE created these characters from her genius. I deserve no credit._

_Fredda (Rangergirl1234) I can't thank you enough for signing on to beta another story for me. Just knowing you're along for the ride makes me believe this story will work._

_And to Amy (beancounter74) thank you for being the real life inspiration for Dr. Amy Walker below as well as a great friend. _

**Chapter 1 – Waking Up**

The big guy in white orderly scrubs came in my room and nodded good morning. The guy reminded me of a quiet version of Tank, which is saying something considering how little Tank liked to talk. Apparently, I'd been deemed to be a danger to myself in some way during the night because when I woke up my arms and legs were in restraints tied to the hospital bed I'd been forced to stay in while recuperating from my injuries.

My refusal to talk to anyone had made the staff on edge. Apparently, a guy isn't capable of physically healing unless he's vocal so they brought in some 'specialists' to get to the root of the problem with me. The first shrink that tried to get me to tell him what happened nearly pissed his pants when I rolled over in bed, baring my teeth and growling at him. Honestly, sometimes the pussies in the veterans' hospitals didn't deserve to call themselves members of the armed forces. It hurt like a son of a bitch to move because my stomach hadn't healed from the three bullet holes, but it was worth the pain to see his face before he high tailed it out.

The guy that came in yesterday was a little older and more experienced. He tried threatening me, saying he could be my best friend or my worst enemy but assured me I wasn't going anywhere unless I told him what happened during my mission. I began counting the dots on the ceiling at that point and refused to even look at him. Eventually, he got mad and stormed out promising that I'd talk one way or the other. Really.

I looked at the restraints and raised an eyebrow at my mime of an aide. The guy was nice enough and he knew how to keep his mouth shut, which I admired. He saw the look on my face and shrugged. "File said you had a dream last night and were trying to fight anybody that got near you, so they knocked you out and put these on to keep you from hurting your stitches."

I looked down at my stomach and saw a small trail of blood. Shit, it looks like he wasn't lying. Strange, I didn't remember any dreams and I sure as hell didn't remember anybody shooting me up with anything. Of course, the hangover headache I was sporting now told me that was definitely what happened.

"Need anything?" He asked after finishing his morning checks.

I shook my head no and he shrugged and walked out. I stayed in bed, realizing there was no reason for me to get up. Hell I was peeing in a bag, my gut was still tender, and my leg was in a cast from my ankle to my hip that would make walking unaided damn near impossible. My body ached and even though I knew my injuries would eventually heal, this mission did more to me than take my strength for a while, it robbed me of my belief in a certain code of honor that I thought all Delta forces had.

The only consolation I had was that this was my last mission. I had it in writing when I accepted my last commission. Of course, it was an easy promise for my handler to make, because everyone who saw the manifest of what we were to do knew it was a fucked up suicide mission. In order for my team to succeed, someone was going to have to sacrifice themselves, and I knew that someone was meant to be me. I didn't like it, but I expected it and I had made all the arrangements I needed to in order to go in peace.

But that isn't what happened. Some how we were betrayed and before we could pull off our final objective, we were ambushed in a way that was intended to wipe out the entire team. This wasn't the work of the terrorists we were trying to take out; this was precisioned, perfectly timed to our schedule and location. This reeked of betrayal. I was separated from my team and because of that I wasn't there to lead the five guys who were too damn young and inexperienced to lead themselves. They were taken out like lambs in a slaughter.

I didn't see the point in talking about it to a shrink. They sure as hell didn't know what it was like to face the automatic weapons and rocket launchers with no back up. And talking about it wasn't going to bring those guys back. I went in with a team and a mission log calling for the death of one of us. Instead the one slated to die was alive, four of the others who were to survive were dead, and the other kid that survived was so fucked up they didn't know if he'd ever walk again. FUBAR'd didn't even begin to cover it.

I shut my eyes, still feeling fuzzy from the medication they used last night but before I could find any sleep I felt someone enter the room. There was no noise but my body was still on heightened alert from the mission and my eyes shot open to take in a woman who was standing there with her head angled slightly, looking at me like a puppy trying to figure out a mystery.

I looked at her and waited to see what she wanted. She was in fatigues but knowing she was army didn't hold the clout it used to with me. We engaged in a stand off of sorts staring at each other, neither speaking. I don't know how long she watched me, but I refused to break and ask what she wanted and evidently she didn't feel the need to explain herself.

She walked away shaking her head, leaving me wondering what the hell that was all about. The same aide from the morning came in with a tray that was supposed to be my lunch. I looked at it and saw it was all liquid. What was the point? There was a feeding tube going down my nose, so I didn't bother trying to force this shit down in the name of eating. Unidentifiable green liquid and jello wasn't lunch.

When the quiet guy came back for the tray he asked if I met my new doctor. I had no clue who he was talking about so I just looked at him. "Dr. Walker was supposed to come by," he offered as an explanation. "I haven't worked with her much, but the other guys in the lunch room said she was the best. If anybody could help you it would be her."

With that vote of confidence he took my untouched tray and walked out. I let out a long breath and ran my fingers through my hair. It hurt to raise my hand over my head. I didn't know who this Dr. Walker was, but the fact that somebody was convinced I needed to be helped only drew at my stubborn side. I'd see what the good doctor wanted, but talking to her about my mission wasn't going to happen.

No sooner had I thought that than the mystery woman from the morning reappeared. She was in black slacks and a white shirt with a doctor's coat on top. Embroidered above her breast pocket was the name Dr. Amy Walker. Well, I guess that answered the question about the great Dr. Walker the orderly had warned me about earlier.

"Captain Santos," she began coming in and rolling the doctor stool over to have a seat on it. Then she pulled the computer mounted to the wall down so that it was at her level and began typing away. She looked at something on the screen and seemed to be speed reading it based on the fast pace of her eye movement.

I waited to see what she wanted. It wasn't like I could walk away. Suddenly her eyes got bigger followed by her brow wrinkling. Despite having green eyes myself, I was partial to blue ones like Stephanie's. I'd never seen anyone with eyes as expressive as hers, but the ones Dr. Walker had were incredible. They were vibrant with flecks of dark brown contrasted against the color of leaves and rimmed in a faint grey like someone had taken a pen and literally traced the color to make it stand out even more. I had a feeling she probably got a lot of guys to spill their secrets just by staring at her eyes. "Well, it seems my colleagues have formed some pretty fierce opinions of you."

She looked at me to see if I had a response. I refused to give her the satisfaction of asking. It's not that she made me uncomfortable; she was a nice enough woman. Neat, attractive even, in a no nonsense kind of way. She had blond hair, but I could tell the color came from a bottle. It was pulled up in a tight bun and had a couple of pencils sticking out of it in a haphazard kind of way. It almost gave the impression that she stuck them in there and forgot about them, reaching for a new one when next she had a need. I wouldn't accuse her of being skinny, but she was far from big. She was the kind of girl that Bobby would go for. He always said a girl needed enough meat on her bones to make him relax enough to touch her without fearing he'd break her. This chick looked like she could do some breaking on her own if pushed. I didn't plan on getting to know her well enough to find out for sure, but it was a nice change to have a woman in my room instead of Tank's less sociable twin.

"I don't believe in wasting people's time Santos," she said in a voice that wasn't laced with any hidden agendas. It was a shame she was a shrink, as I had a feeling I could grow to respect if not like her. "I am the head of mental health at the VA. Normally you and I would have no reason to interact, but after your last mission, which I only know got screwed up in every possible way, you have yet to speak a word except when you're dreaming. At night when you sleep, you get agitated, disoriented, and last night violent. Despite the progress you are making at healing your physical injuries, you will not be released from this facility until I sign off on it. Until you show me one good reason to trust you aren't going to flip out once released, then I will refuse to have you discharged. I'm not saying this to agitate you, or force your hand. Your record speaks for itself; you're no fool and you're sure as hell not crazy. I just have to be sure you're safe." With that, she stood up and left.

Safe? When had I ever been safe? I may have controlled it better, hidden it under a shield of jokes and laid back womanizing, but safe and Lester Santos didn't belong in the same sentence. Honestly, I don't know why I wasn't talking. I knew I could, there was nothing wrong with my throat. I guess I just didn't feel like I had a reason to – like I didn't deserve to have a voice.

I closed my eyes and suffered the pain of lifting my hand to rub over my face. I had a feeling in the back of my mind that there was something big I needed to remember. I'd spent every waking moment trying to figure out what it was and couldn't. I was pretty sure I had all the details of the mission firm in my mind. I could recreate all the time from the moment we landed in Afghanistan to the moment I was picked up and thrown onto the chopper that took me first to Germany, and then here, wherever here was. I knew I was in the US, but there were literally hundreds of VA hospitals in the country, and I had no way of knowing which one was currently treating me. I guess it didn't matter.

I thought back over what Dr. Walker had said. I couldn't leave until she was sure I wasn't going to flip out. I almost smiled at that. Clearly she wasn't a stuck up shrink like the other two yahoos were. She might even know her stuff. That still didn't mean I was going to talk to her.

I spent the rest of the day trying to sort out the gut feeling there was something very important that I needed to remember. The most frustrating part was that I didn't know if it had to do with my mission or with my life back in Trenton. I couldn't remember a lot about the last few days before I left, but I could peace together the distinct feeling boarding the plane that took me from DC to the base we used in Afghanistan that it was okay to leave. I had things sorted out back home, and I was happy with the arrangements I'd made knowing I wasn't going to come back - at least not outside of a box. It was strange that I couldn't piece together what the arrangements were that I'd made, but I guess it didn't really matter.

I woke up the next morning and could feel that I was strapped to the bed again. I didn't remember anyone doing it before I went to sleep, so I guessed I'd been dreaming again. I couldn't remember any of the dream, but when they give you drugs to knock you out you rarely can. I waited and pretty soon the orderly from the previous day came in and asked if I was awake. I nodded and he began to remove the restraints.

"My cousin was on duty last night. He said you had another dream and it took three of them to get you still enough for the doctor to come in and give you a shot to knock you out. I told him I didn't believe him 'cause you're pretty banged up and can't even get up, but when I came in this morning he had a busted lip he said you gave him, so I figure when you're up and around you must be one bad dude." It was a long speech for a guy I had considered quiet. I guess since he knew I wasn't talking, he felt it was safe for him to do a little.

He gave me another tray of liquids. I wasn't going to attempt to call it breakfast but I did take the can of ginger ale and drink it. "Doc said we need to start sitting you up a little today. It's going to hurt like no body's business, but it will help you in the long run. Dr. Walker will be by this morning and after she leaves, if you're up to it, I'll come by and help you get in the chair." I nodded that I understood him and he started to leave before turning back with a strange expression. "You aren't going to try and hit me if you hurt when I'm picking you up, are you?" That question almost made me smile. I shook my head no and realized for his sheer size this guy wasn't Tank's equal in strength. Not by a long shot.

An hour later Dr. Walker came back in wearing her fatigues as she had been the morning before. I couldn't decide which version of her I liked better. There was something equalizing about her in camouflage and combat boots, but the professional image of the head of a department at a government run hospital probably necessitated she wear the dressy clothes I'd seen her in yesterday afternoon.

"Santos," she came in and nodded when I turned to face her. "I hear you had another rough night. You got a few good punches in on one of my best guys." I couldn't help but grin a little. She wasn't upset, despite her attempt to look stern. The smile on my face melted her further and she added much softer, "I was relieved honestly. The guy was getting over confident and having his ass handed to him by a guy who is bed ridden and dreaming was a little slice of humble pie I hadn't been able to force feed him."

That settled it; Dr. Walker was definitely someone I could grow to respect. "I'm thinking I already know the answer to this question, but would you like to talk to me this morning?"

She paused and I put my blank face on. It didn't take her long to read that for what it was. "Alright then, I have only one question for you," she paused to be sure she still had my attention. "Who is S. Plum?"

My blank face was shot to hell then. Why was she asking about Stephanie? And why did it feel like I'd been shot in the chest when I thought about her? I put my hand over my breastbone and rubbed it as though that would ease the burn I felt there. Dr. Walker's eyes narrowed as she watched me and I knew she was reading more into my actions than I intended.

She seemed to be having an internal conversation with herself and finally she bent slightly to pull a long envelop from a pocket in the front of her pants. "It seems your previous doctor was aware that you were getting a back log of letters from home and he didn't feel they were important, so he had them held. I thought it was a crock of shit from a man who was too wimpy to admit he was afraid of you and wanted to make you suffer for scaring him in his first week here in a new job."

She took a few steps closer before holding out an envelope and explaining, "I contacted your CO and he promised to forward the mail that had accumulated for you at his base, but so far this letter is all that's arrived. I promise to have the rest brought to you as soon as they turn up. I hope I don't regret this Santos. I have a feeling you're in a real fragile place and one wrong move might send you in a direction I can't bring you back from."

With that warning, she put the letter in my hand and left me alone.

I'd been in the Army or associated with it since I was eighteen years old. In the Fourteen years since I enlisted, I could count on one hand the number of letters I'd received. Stephanie had no reason to write. Hell, I don't even know how she got the right address and she'd written me. If I could ever convince Dr. Walker it was alright to let me go home I was going to make sure Stephanie knew how much it meant that she took the time to do this for me.

I looked at the envelope, not wanting to rush the experience of getting real mail. Her handwriting was clear on the front, written in blue ink. The return address was strange because it was her name, S. Plum, but the address 124 Elmsworth wasn't her apartment. It was my condo address south of town. I'd bought it a few years ago when they were first available commercially and I'd spent very little time there, treating it like a retreat when I needed a break from Haywood.

How in the hell did she know where I lived, and why would she use it as her mailing address? Strangely, I wasn't upset about it. If anything, it made me happy to think of her among my things, getting to know me from the few personal effects I had there. I opened the paper envelope as carefully as possible and slid out the letter. It was several pages of handwritten words. I don't know why I liked the fact that she wrote it instead of typing it and printing it out. I guess I knew this way took more effort and time, and it made me feel as though Stephanie thought I was worth it.

Damn, my chest was burning again. If it didn't stop that, I was going to have to break my silence and ask the doctor about it. Hell, it might mean something was wrong and from the looks of my body, I was already trying to get over more than my body could handle. Something else breaking probably wasn't good news right now.

Before I could start reading, the orderly reappeared and asked if it was a good time to try sitting up. I figured it would make reading the letter easier since I wouldn't have to hold my hands so high. I nodded and he lowered the rail on my bed and used the controls to slowly raise my head. "Doc said no weight on your leg, so I'm going to pick you up and sit you in that chair," he told me pointing to a recliner next to the window. It seemed well lit, so I put the letter back in the envelope to protect it and nodded that I was ready.

As soon as he lifted me, I realized why he felt the need to confirm I wasn't going to hit him. This hurt nearly as bad as getting shot in the first place did. I tried to keep my breathing deep and even to minimize the proof of the agony it was causing, but there was nothing I could do to stop the sweat building up on my brow.

After getting me settled he grabbed a blanket and threw it over my legs. I hadn't given much thought to the fact I was still wearing a damn gown with the ass swinging open. I felt like an old man in a nursing home being lifted by the help and tucked into a chair to spend the afternoon alone.

He handed me the call button and reminded me that I had an open script for pain meds, so it if it got to be too much I only needed to push the button and they'd bring me something for the pain. I held back the initial reaction of rolling my eyes. He left after promising he'd return in two hours to get me back in bed. I figured two hours would give me enough time to enjoy my letter.

As soon as he disappeared I pulled the pages back out and opened them up, smiling at the thought of her hands touching these pages too. The date at the top was June first. I got my orders on the twenty fifth of May, so it was less than a week from the day I knew I was leaving and the day after I actually pulled out of town.

I wanted to draw the experience out, but I couldn't wait any longer and I started to read her letter right away, hanging onto every word.

_Dear Lester,_

_I know you just left last night_,_ and it seems silly to write to you in light of everything you shared with me about your mission, but I felt like I had to. The last week has been crazy, wild, unexpected, and perfect. Dealing with the fact that it's over has been hard. _

I strained to remember the days before my mission, but just like every other time I'd tried I only came up blank. I was more disappointed than ever that I couldn't piece it together since it sounded like Steph and I had spend a lot of it together.

_I went back to my apartment yesterday and everything was in perfect order, but it was empty and for the first time in my life I felt alone there. I guess having you as my shadow for the last week got me used to spending time with somebody. So, I hope you don't mind, but I took the key you gave me and I went back to your condo._

Hell, I gave her a key to my condo? I guess that explains the return address. My chest ached for her description of herself as being lonely. If I were there, I would have held her to insure she never felt alone.

_As soon as I walked in_,_ I knew I'd made the right decision to come back. You are everywhere here_,_ so it doesn't feel like you're so far away. (Plus Rex was here, which I'd forgotten about, so it was a good thing I came back to take care of him.)_

Her and that damn rat. He was cute in a twitchy kind of way, but the attachment she had to him was all it took for me to clear off a spot on the kitchen counter near the window so he could see outside and dream of running free. Oh shit, I remembered doing that. I shut my eyes and I could easily picture her smiling and saying she couldn't come with me to my condo because Rex would be all alone. I picked up his cage and promised her I had the perfect solution that would make Rex a very happy boy. I couldn't remember what she said, but I could envision her smiling, and her face was practically glowing with joy. Why was she so happy? Had I done something to put that smile on her face? God I hoped so. If I had made her that happy then at least I knew something I did before leaving town was well worth it.

_I don't know if you feel as off balance as I do after this last week. Everything happened so quickly once you got that letter, but I guess after the last few months it wasn't exactly unexpected. I just wanted to be sure you knew I was happy. I mean, I'm not happy that you aren't here, but I'm happy with everything that happened._

What happened? What was fast but not unexpected? I struggled to pull up something, anything, but all I could come up with was a blank empty memory and that burning in my chest again.

_I went by RangeMan this morning and the guys were quiet. It was strange. I mean, I know none of them are known as conversationalists_,_ but even when I tried to get them to talk they just couldn't do it. I guess you being gone is having an effect on more than just me. Finally_,_ I gave up and went to my parent's house for dinner. I didn't care if I did have to listen to my mother lecture me about what I put Joe through; it was nice to have a little noise around. _

The mention of Joe made me growl. He was a good cop, solid, smart, with good instincts and a determination to get the bad guys off the street, but seeing his name made me want to take his head between my hands and twist it off his shoulders. I could do it; I did it to several guys in Afghanistan before the ambush started.

_Luckily, Grandma Mazur had a date with a seventy-eight year old hottie named Ed who was as crazy as she was. Between the two of them_,_ I don't remember laughing so hard in a long time. My poor dad finally gave up, loaded his plate_,_ and retreated to the den. Mom was about to fall out of her chair, but I think Jim Beam was more to blame for that than the positions Grandma Mazur and Ed were describing. Apparently_,_ there is a senior citizen version of the Karma Sutra with only positions included that are easy on your joints and possible to pull off in a hospital bed. Strangely, the idea of my Grandma having such a book isn't as repulsive as I might have thought; she even offered to let me borrow it. I hope you realize how desperate I am for your company just by that sentence alone._

I was smiling like a fool unable to cover up the laughter as I pictured that dinner. Her Grandma was a crazy woman, and she had the fastest fingers I'd ever seen, but she loved her Granddaughter and that was reason enough for me to like her. I'll bet it was funny, if not a little frightening, to hear her talking about geriatric sex. At least it kept Mrs. Plum from berating Stephanie. I hated it when she did that.

_Dad walked me out and saw your car at the curb. He ran his hand over the hood and whistled, then volunteered to check the oil and fluids just to be sure it was in good shape. He was mumbling something about how this car was too sweet for me to blow it up. I promised him you said I could drive it some, but seeing the appreciation he had for your Mustang, I think I'll just cover it back up in the garage and leave it there. I couldn't stand the thought of something happening to your 'baby'._

Shit, she was driving my fully restored 1968 mustang with the Cobra Jet engine and custom interior? That car took me years to rebuild, and I pampered it as the only woman in my life that responded to my attention perfectly. I knew her Dad was into American cars, so it was nice to know he'd looked it over. I'll bet Steph was sexy as hell behind the wheel of that car; her hand on the gear shift, her hair flowing in the breeze with the windows down as she let the horses run. On the highway, I'll bet it would make her feel like she was flying. Suddenly, I didn't care about the car I'd spent so many hours sweating over. I just wanted Stephanie to enjoy it.

_Lula wants me to go shopping with her over the weekend. I tried to come up with a valid reason to refuse, but in the end_,_ I just gave up and agreed. She can be very persuasive. She needs some new shoes and a trip to Victoria's Secret. So, there may be a new pink bag or two coming into the condo since I don't seem to be able to go there without bringing something new home with me._

Did she just call my place her home? Something was definitely screwed up in my head. The fact that I couldn't remember why she would in my place, living among my things, was one piece of evidence, but the larger piece was that I was more concerned about not remembering how she got there and less focused on her comment about bringing some sexy lingerie there. I shut my eyes for a minute and pictured her with a pink bag in her hand and a flirty smile on her face. She was teasing me with what was in the bag, promising I might get a chance to see inside if I was good. But no matter how hard I tried to take it past that; I couldn't remember if I had been good enough to see what was in the bag.

_Don't worry; I won't take over more than the side of the dresser you cleaned out for me. I know you told me to move all your clothes out, but I simply can't do it. Not now, and honestly I don't know if I'll ever be able to do it. You may believe you're not coming back, but I refuse to accept that. And you better believe me when I say if you go over there and give up fighting, give up trying to get back home, then I'll find you and beat the shit out of you myself._

I laughed out loud at that sentence. If anyone else had said something like that to me I would have raised an eye brow to show my disbelief. But coming from her I could buy it. She could be damn stubborn when she set her mind to it. The fact that she came up with an address to write to me at all was evidence of that. Hell, if she'd asked me I wouldn't have had a clue what address to give her. At some point, she was going to have some explaining to do.

_I know this isn't much of a letter__. M__aybe I'll get better at writing them as time goes by, but I needed to do something to feel connected to you again. You're too far away and I can't stand it. Please tell me you're being careful. You may think you've given me everything I could possibly need so that I would be well taken care of, but the only thing I want is with you. I know we would have a lot to sort out and deal with, but I have a feeling that together we could do it._

What did we need to sort out? I had no idea what she was talking about, but I liked the fact that she made it sound like I'd taken care of her some how. She was a proud woman and getting her to accept help wasn't easy. I wonder if I'd used the leverage of being shipped out on a suicide mission. It would have been blackmail, but I wasn't above trying it if I thought it was for her good. And what is the only thing she wanted that I had with me. Did she give me something to remember her by? I looked around the room, but I didn't appear to have any personal effects. If she gave me something for safe keeping, I had obviously lost it. I wondered how pissed she would be when she found out.

She had signed the letter _Love, Stephanie_. She might have felt like it wasn't a good letter, but I read it and reread it for two hours straight. When the big guy dressed in perfectly clean white scrubs reentered the room he stood at the door and watched me for a minute not coming any closer. I didn't turn to look at him even though I was aware of his presence. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the letter in my hands.

He finally cleared his throat and I snapped out of my trance and ran my hand over my face. One of my cheeks felt wet so I quickly brushed it away, wondering how I managed to let that happen without being aware of it. He gave me a minute, took a couple of small steps in, and asked, "Bad news from home?"

I shook my head no, carefully laid the pages on top of each other, folded them and then put them back in the envelope to keep them safe. I knew I'd have them out reading them again before the day was over, but I felt the need to keep them protected while someone else was in the room.

He waited patiently and when I was finished, he asked if I was ready to get back in bed. I knew what was coming, so I clamped my jaw down to keep from making a sound when he lifted me from the chair and placed me back in the bed. I was more comfortable stretched out on the mattress, so the throbbing subsided quickly back down to the dull ache it had been for the last two days. Any wound to the gut was a bitch to get over, and having three holes and bruising surrounding them was going to be even more difficult to pull through.

He brought over a tray of liquid swill I had no intention of touching, but the can of Sprite seemed interesting enough for me to pick it up and pop it open. I was half way through it before I gave in to the temptation of pulling out the letter again. If anything, reading her letter had increased that nagging sensation that I needed to pull up a memory but I was still completely in the dark about what it was.

Instead of the unease that usually came over me when I tried to force something from the black depths of my mind, I looked at her letter and allowed the peace that I only felt when I was around Stephanie to surface. She might not realize it, but her words had made a difference in how I felt. I had a long way to go, but her medicine had helped me to take a first silent step in getting there.


	2. I Call Her Beautiful

_Once again Lester and Stephanie are all a result of JE's genius, not mine._

_Fredda (Rangergirl1234), thank you for not only working your beta magic on this story, but for encouraging me to write it in the first place._

_Amy (beancounter74) once again the character based on you is working wonders in this story. Thanks for letting me use your love of Lester to shape this story._

**Chapter 2- I Call Her Beautiful**

I was quickly getting tired of this shit. Waking up every day with your hands tied down was humiliating. It took away my control and only made me more determined to keep them from controlling me in any other ways, like trying to make me talk. I pulled against them but I knew it was pointless, I couldn't get loose.

Before my anger began to build to an unmanageable level, the door to my room swung open and the big guy I'd grown accustomed to seeing was standing there with a rectangular object in his hands. He walked over to the wall and hung it on two screws that were already present. When he turned around and explained, "Dr. Walker was pissed this had been taken down by one of the other guys. She wanted you to have it back."

I looked over his shoulder and saw it was a dry erase board that had the name of my treating physician and my room number. Wherever this was, I was in room 510. Below that was an RN named Nancy, who I was pretty sure I had never seen, and my aide was listed as being Ben. I looked from the board and over to the large guy in white. He smiled and pointed to himself, "Yep, I'm Ben."

Finally, at the top I saw the date was listed as being July 1st. Shit, I'd been gone or out of it for a month. The mission was only supposed to last ten days, but I knew it had stretched to two weeks before hell came up and tried to swallow me whole for all the shit I'd done in my life. That must mean that I'd been here recovering for a little over two weeks. I looked down at my stomach and leg and wondered how much longer it would take.

"You ready to move to the chair?" Ben asked a little tentatively. I didn't really want to do it. It hurt like a son of a bitch the last time, and I wasn't looking forward to enduring that without something to distract me like I had yesterday, but I wasn't going to be a sissy and say no. I ground my teeth together and nodded, not making a sound as the fire spread through my gut when he lifted me and moved me to the chair next to the window once more.

By the time he got me settled I felt that presence of someone else standing in the room and turned my head to see Dr. Walker standing there looking at me in what was a parade rest stance.

"You look like shit," she said as though it wasn't an insult. "I know people consider what I do to be quack science sometimes, but I've never had a patient look as green as you do from your physical injuries. You'd think all the egg heads here could do something to fix that."

I couldn't help it, her direct manner made part of a smile form before I could deny it. "I'm pretty sure I know the answer to this question, but is there anything you want to talk about this morning?"

The smile fell and I shook my head no. "Can I ask you a few simple yes or no questions, just to give me a baseline to know what I'm working with here?"

I shrugged my shoulders, unwilling to commit without knowing what kind of questions I was dealing with first.

"Is there anything wrong with your voice?" She started by getting right to the point. I shook my head no, not seeing the harm in answering that one correctly.

"Did you expect to come back home alive from your last mission?" I had to give her credit; the good doctor wasn't pulling any punches. Again I shook my head no. If she ever saw my mission directive she would known the answer to it anyway.

"Did the letter I gave you yesterday make things harder for you?" I hadn't expected that one, but decided to answer it anyway. I shook my head no and briefly considered telling her that it was the first bright spot I'd had since I left on that mission a month ago, but figured that detail didn't really matter, so why bother.

She seemed to be considering something for a long minute. I'd gotten used to her battling in her head, so I wasn't put off by her quiet look of contemplation. Finally, she bent down and pulled something from behind her fatigue pants. It was a large flat envelope which she looked at briefly and then asked, "Are you going to tell me who S. Plum is?"

My eyebrows rose at the mention of Stephanie's name and I looked down at the package, knowing it was more than one letter. I shook my head no; I wasn't going to tell her anything about Stephanie. Until I understood where I was, and why my unit was ambushed, I wasn't giving any details about my life back in Trenton. Hell, Stephanie attracted enough crazies of her own without my past compounding that.

After a brief hesitation Dr. Walker handed me the envelope and said, "I understand there are plenty more yet to come and I'll keep hounding your CO until they all make it. But for now, I believe there is more than one in there for you to read."

As her hand let go of the package she asked, "Would you let me know if you didn't want to read any more of these letters?"

I looked up and nodded yes emphatically, wondering if she understood there was no way in hell that I wouldn't want one of Stephanie's letters. Reading it yesterday was the first time I'd felt normal in a while and I wanted that feeling again. Steph had always helped to center me. It didn't matter if she was with the cop or Ranger, just being in her presence was calming. Her letters weren't the same as being around her, but for now, they were a pretty good compromise.

"Do you remember any of the dream from last night?" She pushed a little. I didn't want to just dismiss her off handedly, so I shut my eyes and tried once more to remember, but I came up blank again. I didn't remember the dream and I didn't remember being restrained. Hell, it seemed from the letter yesterday there were a good many things I couldn't remember. Ironically, none of them had to do with the mission itself and I was pretty sure everyone here was attributing my lack of communication to that single event. I opened my eyes and shook my head no.

Dr. Walker's eyes narrowed slightly, as though she were trying to tell if I were being honest, but she didn't comment further. After a brief pause she tipped her chin in my direction and turned to walk out the door.

She stopped at the doorway and said, "In case you're curious, I don't think you're crazy and I don't think you're in any danger of snapping when you're awake. But your subconscious obviously has some serious issue that you aren't willing to deal with, so it can only come out when you're sleeping. If we can figure out what that is and deal with it so that you can sleep without becoming violent, then I'd be okay with discharging you. This isn't a prison, but I won't let you go home if I think there's a chance you'll hurt someone you love. Neither of us could live with that."

Apparently, in addition to being a shrink Dr. Walker was also an Air Force pilot because I'd never seen a bomb dropped with such precision in my life. As she said the last phrase, her hand went up to her neck and I caught a glimpse of a scar before her hand covered the three inch long gash. It was long ago healed, but it looked like a clean cut from a knife. Based on where it was located another inch in width and she would have bleed to death. I had no reason to trust her, but that mark and her almost instinctual touching of it made me think she might be able to handle whatever secrets my mind was covering up.

I heard the door closing behind her and leaned my head back in the chair and shut my eyes for a minute. Was she right? Was there something hiding in my head that I wasn't aware of that was making me so mad I was losing control when I was asleep? If there was, what was it? I couldn't come up with a thing, so opened my eyes once more and looked at the envelope in my hand.

The outside address was from an office in DC. I assume that's where the letters from Stephanie came from. My Delta Force orders came from a suit there, so it made sense. Honestly, I was surprised he kept them. Since no one expected me to make it back, they could have shredded them and no one would have been any wiser.

I glanced at the clock on the wall and saw I'd only been up for fifteen minutes. Since I had a while to go I ripped the outer envelope open to get the treasure it contained. Inside were three letters, postmarked on consecutive days. I knew it was silly but I picked them up together and held them to my nose, drawing in a deep breath in the hope of capturing some smell from home. I could have sworn there was the light scent of pizza, which made me smile. Most girls would douse letters with perfume, but Steph did tend to smell like marinara sauce a great deal of the time, since that was her favorite food group.

I glanced at the return addresses and saw all three were my condo address under her name S. Plum. Arranging them in chronological order, I picked up the first one and gently opened the envelope, savoring the excitement of having words from home.

_Dear Lester,_

_I really intended yesterday's letter to be the only one I wrote, but after running several searches and getting off the phone with some creep in DC, I finally got an address to use for you and felt the need to celebrate. I tried being sweet and gentle to get the information_,_ but in the end I just told them exactly who I was, who I was to you, and threatened to come down there and kick some bureaucratic ass if they didn't provide me with a viable address to send you some mail. I was put on hold and two minutes later a nervous kid gave me this one. It's in DC and not anywhere that you would be serving, so you may never see this, but it makes me feel better to have a place to send you what I'm thinking._

I had to smile at the thought of her threatening a suit and them being worried enough to give her an address. Apparently, she made a big enough impression that they kept the mail. I wonder who she told them she was. Steph's name might carry a little weight in Trenton, but in DC she would have been unknown. The part about who she was to me caught my eye as well. I'd love to know the answer to that too. Her letter from yesterday made it sound like we were something to each other, but I had no memory of being anything more than friends.

_I had to do something to try and get out of the funk I've been in the last two days. This morning I was trying to run a search for Rodriguez, who I still haven't met by the way. I typed it in and pressed run, then I kind of zoned out. I didn't figure it mattered since the programs take a few minutes to pull the information, but the next thing I knew Bobby was kneeling beside me_,_ asking if I was alright. I guess I'd gotten wrapped up in my thoughts and I hadn't moved in over an hour_,_ so the guys were worried about me and sent Bobby over._

I could picture that perfectly. She did tend to get lost in her thoughts and if Steph ever sat still for an hour, the guys would have freaked out. Something tells me she gave me tame version of what happened. Bobby was probably there with a full medic bag and a shot of adrenaline in case she was experiencing some strange crash.

_It took a lot of fast talking, but I managed to convince him I was just tired and in need of some chocolate. Then the weirdest thing happened__. A__s soon as I mentioned chocolate_,_ five different candy bars suddenly appeared out of thin air_,_ as everybody had my favorites. I guess I was lucky they had some treats hidden away because once I bit into the first one it did seem more medicinal than a normal snack._

I smiled knowing that most every guy at RangeMan had some of Steph's favorite foods hidden in their desk. We didn't usually eat the kind of shit she put in her body on a regular basis, but we all loved the chance to give her something when she needed it just to watch her eyes light up and hear that torturous sound of the long moan she always let escape with the first bite of sugar.

_I finished up the search and then I got the bright idea to try and track down a way to send some mail your way and I guess the sugar in my system made me slightly more hyped up than normal. I must have yelled __a __little at the guy on the phone when I threatened to kick his ass because Bobby came back over with a look on his face telling me I was getting a little too loud and scaring the guys. I finished my phone call, with an address now in hand, and told Bobby I was going home for the day so that I wouldn't freak anybody else out. _

Damn, I wish I'd been there for that. The idea of Stephanie fighting for me, even if it was just to get an address to write a letter had my hand back over my chest. I pulled the gown away and looked to be sure there wasn't an injury there I wasn't aware of. It was only slightly yellow as the bruising on my body was beginning to fade away finally. My stomach was looking a little better today too. I guess they got me restrained before I had a chance to rip anything again.

_I have to confess that when I left the office to go home I went straight back to your condo. You did tell me you wanted it to be my home now and I was missing you something fierce_,_ so I went straight there and locked up behind myself, even turning on the alarm system just like you showed me. I was planning on working my way through your movie collection and it seemed like a good time to get started on that. But an hour into Singing in the Rain (Honestly, you have a whole shelf of musicals…is there something I need to know here?) there was a buzz at the main gate. _

I couldn't stop it before the laugh rolled out of my mouth. I had to move my hand from my chest to my stomach to try and hold it back because it hurt to laugh like this. I had never told anybody, but I loved a good musical. Once Bobby caught a glimpse of a few of my sappy titles and I told him I had them because the ladies loved to think of me as a sensitive guy. I pretended it was just a front to score, but it couldn't have been further from the truth. Something about a guaranteed happy ending, with catchy tunes in between, always appealed to me. I bet Steph was scratching her head trying to figure out exactly who I was after seeing my collection at the condo.

Unfortunately, my laughter was picked up in the hall as the door burst open and a very nervous looking Ben and a worried looking Dr. Walker came in. They must have heard me and assumed I was fighting in a dream again. I guess I was out of practice if my laughter could be construed as a sound of aggression. The smile that had been on my face dropped as soon as I saw them but Dr. Walker must have seen enough to understand the context of the noise I was making. "Sorry to interrupt Santos, I had never heard a sound come out of your room before and I was worried." With her honest apology she turned and motioned for Ben to leave the room as well.

I was too curious about the rest of my letter to worry about what the good doctor was planning on doing to me if I had been dreaming, so I turned my attention back to Steph's words.

_I checked the monitor like you taught me and it was Bobby by himself. I buzzed him in and then went to the door to unlock it after checking that he was the one knocking on the door._

Good girl, she was being careful with her safety. I wish I could remember teaching her how to handle guests at the condo. Then I became worried about why she would be taking her safety so seriously all of a sudden. Was she in some kind of danger? Shit, I'd been fucking around in this hospital and Steph might need me. I needed to get home to check on her. Before I could do something stupid my eyes caught sight of the cast on my leg and I realized that rushing home would probably be the dumbest move I could make. If she were in danger, having an invalid with her certainly wouldn't help her any. I was probably in the right place after all. No one knew I was here, and no one had to worry about what kind of state I was in.

_I stepped back to let him in and he walked straight into the kitchen and sat down at the bar on your stool. He stared at me for a minute with his arms crossed and that blasted blank face I hate so much on you guys without saying anything. I wasn't sure if I should be mad or nervous but he eventually relaxed and said, "I thought you were going home." I realized my mistake then. I know our arrangement wasn't supposed to be public_,_ so I tried to pass my staying here as you being concerned about my safety while you were gone. He didn't buy it._

Bobby wouldn't. He knew how protective I was of that condo. I think only Ranger, Tank, and Bobby were the only ones that I'd ever allowed to know about it. He also knew about my mission and was pissed as hell when he read the orders. He knew I wasn't supposed to come back, so Steph being in my house would have been extra suspicious because of that. Of course, the fact that Steph said we had an arrangement only irritated me further. What had I done before I left?

_He asked me a few more questions, but I refused to answer them. I could tell it was making him angry, but he held it back for the most part. Finally_,_ he looked down at the bar and admitted, "I miss him. Les and I have served together since we met in basic training at eighteen. He's been more __of __a brother to me than my own flesh and blood and letting him leave on such a fucked up mission without me was the hardest thing I've ever done." I hugged him and we just stood there in the kitchen with our arms around each other until the DVD pause slipped off and the music from Singing in the Rain came on again. Bobby burst out laughing and stayed to watch the rest of the movie. He didn't want me to tell you about him liking the musical; he was even humming along by the end. But I never promised to keep his new interest in old movies from you_,_ so I don't have any guilt spilling his secret._

I laughed again at the thought of Bobby liking the movie and I could picture him trying to get Stephanie to promise not to tell anybody. Bobby was a tough guy. I'd seen his hands do things that I didn't think were possible both to take lives and to save them. No matter what he was fighting for, he fought with all his heart. I was glad he was there instead of in Afghanistan with me. If I'd heard those guns going off and thought he was being mowed down, I'm not sure how I would have reacted. It was hard enough trying to get back to the guys I knew were clueless about how to survive and even then I obviously screwed it up somehow if I was practically dead by the time the commotion was over. But if I'd believed that someone was trying to kill the guy I had thought of as a brother for so many years I would have lost the fragile hold on sanity that I somehow managed to keep.

_After he left I raided your fridge and helped myself to your frozen leftovers. You, Mr. Santos_,_ have been holding out on me. You're a great cook. The chicken and rice was delicious. And just so you don't get all judgmental about me only going for the carbs in the freezer, I did eat an apple to__o__, so I had a serving of fruit. _

I smiled once more, feeling the strain on the muscles in my face. I guess I hadn't used them much lately. I loved to cook, to use my hands to create something that would surround you in smell and then in flavor. I wondered if I'd made anything for Stephanie. I had been working to perfect a few Italian dishes so I could make them for her, but I had no idea if I'd tried yet.

_Sorry about rambling so much. I guess when I sit down to write my mind gets flooded with all the things I want to tell you and it just jumps out in a jumbled mess. Of course_,_ I am a jumbled mess so that should__n't__ come as a shock to you. Les, I don't know how to do this. The last month was the hardest and best of my life. I can't thank you enough for all you did to save me. I know you think what happened right before you left was out of some sense of guilt_,_ but I want to be sure you know it wasn't. I did what I did because I wanted to. If there had been no mission I hope we still would be in the same place. You better be fighting to get back home. I need to tell you some of this in person because trying to write about it is too hard. I miss you._

_Love,_

_Stephanie_

I missed her too. My hand was on my chest again scratching at it, trying to ease the tightness that had welled up during her last paragraph. I shut my eyes and tried to reconstruct the last month before I left. I remembered Ranger was in Miami and he called a staff meeting of all the RangeMan locations and announced to everyone that he was moving to Florida indefinitely in order to work several high profile government cases there and to be closer to his daughter. Julie had been getting into trouble in school and Rachel had finally swallowed her pride and asked him for help. We knew it would be a big switch to not have him with us in Trenton, but Tank, Bobby, and I had always run things in his absence, so we already had a system in place for taking over in case something like this ever happened.

After the meeting we all filed out of the conference room except Stephanie. She had pulled her feet up in her chair and was curled up into a ball. I knelt in front of her and tried to figure out what was wrong. "He's really gone," was all she said. I convinced her to go to dinner with me and over Pino's she admitted that while they never had a real relationship, what they had was very important to her and she was afraid about what would happen if she got into trouble and needed help. I jumped all over that and made her understand that it had been years since Ranger had ordered any of us to watch over her. We did it out of love for her, and him being gone wouldn't change that any. She was one of us, and we'd have her back no matter what.

It was three days later that the tracker on her latest piece of shit went off line and Junior sounded the Bomber alarm. He gave us her last location and I drove to the mall like a bat out of hell to see what happened. I could see the plume of smoke filling the air before we got in the parking lot. Somehow she'd managed to send another clunker to car heaven. I parked close to the secured line of emergency vehicles and jumped out of the truck searching for Stephanie.

I didn't have to look long because I could hear her yelling. I followed the sound of angry Italians and saw Joe and Steph standing toe to toe, screaming at the top of their lungs. Apparently, Joe was blaming the flaming wreck on her and she wasn't taking it. I waited, trying to give her the space she needed to deal with her own life, but when Joe's voice went from loud and booming, to quiet and low I knew that was bad news. I got to her side just as he grabbed her arm with his hand, attempting to take her somewhere she obviously didn't want to go.

Before I could say a word she slapped him across the face. His eyes narrowed and she clinched her teeth together to inform him, "We're though because I don't want this anymore. You're turning me into a bitch, and I must be turning you into your father." I didn't know exactly what that meant but the rumors were that Joe's dad was bad news; a mean drunk and an abusive family man. The words had an immediate effect on the cop in front of me. He dropped her arm like it was burning his hand and took a quick step away from her. I found myself feeling sorry for him because the expression on his face was nothing but pain. Finally, Steph softened her tone and instructed, "Go home Joe. Let's give each other some space and maybe one day we can learn how to be friends again. But that's all we'll ever be." No more words were spoken as Morelli turned and walked away like a man defeated.

I looked at Steph and she looked horrible. Her clothes and hair were singed, she had some gashes that were bleeding, and she was pale. I pulled her into my arms as gently as I could, not knowing how injured she might be. She practically melted into me and made no attempt to pull away when Eddie came over to get her statement.

A skip she brought in had been rebonded and decided to get a little payback by throwing a flaming bottle in her car window. She had gotten out but didn't get very far before the whole thing exploded. It was the force of the blast that knocked her down, scratching her hands, arms, and face. Bobby looked her over, declaring she only had surface injuries and I took her home, stopping for some take out on the way.

She let me take care of her and I could remember thinking I'd never been happier than sharing a pizza with Steph leaning against my side. After that I found a reason to check in with her everyday. A lot of nights we went out for dinner and we were building a friendship like none I'd ever had before. I had no ability to deny her anything and when she'd ask me a question I answered it honestly. It only took a couple of weeks of that before I was convinced she knew me better than anyone else on the face of the earth.

I remembered getting my assignment a week before I left, but I had no memory of anything between Steph and me after that. Damn it, this was important! The rolling tray with my liquid breakfast was close by and I shoved it with my fist, feeling the need to hit something, but unable to find anything close enough to work. The tray moved quickly and hit the bed, making a loud sound and spilling some of the containers in the process.

The door to my room opened slowly to show Ben and Dr. Walker entering carefully. What was it with these two? Were they just standing out in the hallway, waiting for me to make the smallest sound? I wanted to be pissed about it, but Ben stepped forward and began to clean up my mess. He didn't look at me and I didn't feel any judgment about my outburst making more work for him.

Dr. Walker approached me slowly and leaned against the wall watching me. She let the silence drag on to the point it was bugging me, but she seemed perfectly comfortable. My mind was swirling, trying to force memories to surface that I couldn't get a hold on. Why couldn't I remember what happened with Stephanie? Had I done something to hurt her? I didn't think so, I didn't believe I could, but I couldn't remember and I needed to.

When the sound of the door closing broke me from my thoughts, I looked up to see Dr. Walker still leaning there watching me. "You want to talk to me?" She asked as though she already knew the answer. I nodded yes.

"You realize for this to work you are going to have to say something, right?" She encouraged, giving me a small smile to try and ease me into the idea of talking again.

I shook my head yes, that I understood, and then struggled to come up with what I wanted to say. Finally, I decided to just lay it out there. I didn't know this woman, but I trusted her for some reason. She seemed like the right balance between a professional and a soldier that I figured whatever I told her wouldn't scare her away. "I can't remember."

"Your mission?" She asked, trying to help pull some more details out of me about what it was I needed to remember.

I shook my head no, "Back home." I grimaced at my answer, knowing full well I wasn't giving her enough to work with.

"We'll get to home in a minute," she said letting me know she'd heard me. "Do you remember your mission?"

"Yes," I answered trying to stop the habit of just nodding my responses. She relaxed at my word and then asked, "Does S. Plum have anything to do with what you want to remember?"

I looked at her and couldn't find my blank face anywhere within me. I don't know what my face showed, but my heart felt like it was being ripped out of my chest. It had everything to do with what I needed to remember. She looked at me for a minute and then pointed to the foot of my newly made bed and asked, "Can I sit down? I think this is going to take a while." I went back to nodding, relieved she wasn't trying to run out of here as fast as her boots would take her.

"Why do you scratch your chest every time you hear that name?" She asked, looking at my hand which had somehow made its way to my chest once more. I pulled it away as though it was a surprise to see it sitting there.

I shrugged and then put a little more effort into my answer, "It burns."

"What does the S stand for?" She prompted, giving me an easy question.

"Stephanie," I told her, revealing this was a woman, not one of the guys.

"You don't usually call her that, do you?" Dr. Walker pushed, but I have no idea where the question came from.

I shook my head no and then saw her motion for me to keep talking. "Beautiful," I whispered, treasuring the way that name felt on my lips when I said it out loud. "I call her Beautiful."


	3. Orders

_A big thank you to JE for creating such wonderful characters._

_And a bigger thank you to Fredda (Rangergirl1234) for working so hard as the beta on this story to keep me from ruining what JE gave us to work with._

_Finally, thanks to Amy (beancounter74) for letting me steal your identity (or my version of it at least) for a while and weave you into the Plum universe._

**Chapter 3 - Orders**

"Why do you call her Beautiful instead of Stephanie?" Dr. Walker asked gently.

I didn't really know the answer to that. "It slipped out when I first met her, and it stuck."

"Is she attractive?" She followed up, getting stuck on the nickname for some reason.

"Gorgeous," I affirmed.

"So you call her Beautiful because she is good looking," she summed up.

"No," I interrupted, wondering if I was about to say too much. "She is good looking, but there's a lot more to her than that. She's…warm and accepting."

Dr. Walker smiled as I described Steph, so I assumed she was pleased with my additional information.

"So your confusion isn't about who she is or why she's writing to you," she pointed out.

I raised an eyebrow and wondered how the hell I described what I was missing in my memory. Finally, I just spit it out. "I remember everything up to being called up for the mission. Apparently, we were together the week between being called and leaving on the mission, but I don't remember most of it. The problem is in her letters she makes it sound like something happened between us but I can't remember any of it."

"Do you think you hurt her?" She asked seriously.

I shook my head, "I don't think I could hurt her. I've threatened many people for looking at her the wrong way, so the idea of me doing something cruel doesn't seem possible."

"Okay, then let's assume something good happened," she shifted approaches. "How would you feel about that?"

How would I feel about that? Hell, I'd loved her for a couple of years now. I'd kept my distance and played the friend card to stay close to her while she was bouncing between Ranger and Morelli, but at heart my feelings for her just grew. Hell, it had been at least six months since I'd gone out with another woman just because it felt like I was being unfaithful to her. "I would be surprised, but happy." I finally explained.

"Well, what was the status of your relationship at the last point you can remember?" She guided me.

"We were just friends. She'd been through a lot with an old boyfriend and they had called it quits for the last time and the guy she usually turned to for help and support was gone, so I began to just be there for her. It started with a few take out meals at her place, and at the end of what I can remember we were seeing each other everyday to eat or hang out." That seemed fair.

"You have more than friendly feelings for her," she stated as a fact, not as a question.

I just nodded, not seeing the reason to say anymore since she wasn't asking for anything.

"So if something happened between you two to move from just friends to more than that, you would be okay with it?" She reframed.

"I'd be okay with it, but I need to remember it. Stuff with her is too important to just forget. Why can't I remember it?"

"We'll deal with that later. Do you think she is okay with whatever has changed between you two?" Dr. Walked pushed.

"Her letters have said she was, but she hasn't told me what's happened, just that she was glad it did." That idea in and of itself was odd. Stephanie was a talker, and usually she would go on and on sharing all kinds of details with me. It figures the one time I really need the details would be the one time she would refuse to offer them voluntarily.

"Then I think you need to trust that it's true. So, what you know so far is that you and this woman that you have feelings for have moved from close friends to something else, and you're both okay with it, but you're upset because you don't remember it." She was good at boiling down information.

"Yeah," I agreed with her quick version.

"Why are you upset about it?" She asked.

That was a good question. If somebody had told me Stephanie and I were in a romantic relationship then I would be thrilled. It would be like a dream come true. Then I got it. "Because anything that special is something I want to be able to remember, to think about. Time with her is too important to forget."

She had a faint smile on her face and she nodded. Her next comment surprised me a little. "Then I think you have a couple more letters to read, and I need to go step on some asses to see why the rest of your mail hasn't arrived. Maybe she'll give you some clues or just come right out and tell you what changed between you. Or the renewed contact with her by reading her thoughts may trigger your own memories."

She stood up, as though we were done, and I couldn't stop myself from asking, "That's it? You aren't going to poke around in my head more than that? You can't make me remember?"

She gave me a genuine smile then. "Santos, I've read enough of your file to know that I don't want to be in your mind anymore than is necessary. I'm sure there is a perfectly valid explanation for why your psyche is blocking this information. Let's solve this mystery and maybe that will allow us to discover what's eating at you when you're asleep so that you can get out of here and go home."

That sounded like a plan to me so I let her leave this time when she walked to the door and I turned my attention back to the second letter. Come on Steph, give me a clue about what I'm up against here.

_Dear Lester,_

_Three days you've been gone and instead of it getting easier like you promised, it's getting harder. You told me to just keep doing the next thing and it would start feeling more normal to have you gone, but it hasn't happened. Last night I couldn't sleep_,_ so I came back downstairs and watched the Music Man and fell asleep on the couch. When I woke up early this morning_,_ I looked around and called out for you. It took me a few minutes to remember that you weren't here. It's just not right that you aren't here._

Shit Beautiful, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to break a promise to you. But if we were just friends I would think that you would do things with other people to stay busy and you wouldn't miss me. I shut my eyes and tried to picture me saying any of that to her and briefly I could see her lying in my bed with her head on an ivory pillowcase and us talking in bed. She had tears on her cheeks and a smile on her face, which didn't seem to make sense mixed together. My head must be more screwed up than I thought since I was combining images.

_Enough of this sappy stuff! I promised you no moping and I'm going to try really hard to keep that promise._

That's my girl. As soon as that thought ran through my mind I saw her standing in front of me smiling with her eyes swimming in tears that she was fighting hard to keep from falling. I was wearing fatigues with my name sewn on them and she was running her fingers over my last name. I kissed her forehead and called her my girl. Shit, it felt so real, but that had to be a dream too. I'd never had anyone see me off before a mission. Crap, how was I supposed to tell what was real and what was my imagination supplying pictures of what I wished had happened?

_I went shopping with Lula today and just as I suspected I brought home a new bag. Alright, I brought home several bags. Macy's was having a shoe sale and I found a perfect pair of boots. They go all the way up to my thigh and have a four inch heel. The leather was soft and they made me feel so sexy I just had to buy them. Where I'll wear them is a question I don't have an answer to. Of course_,_ Victoria's Secret had their summer line in and I found a few things you might like. Would you be more likely to come back if I promised to send you pictures?_

Sweet Lord, pictures of Steph in something from Victoria Secret. It's a good thing I didn't get this before heading into the mountains for the mission. I'd have been so distracted about her that I might have gotten hurt before we even got to our target.

_Lula knew something was wrong and did her best to figure it out, but I refused to answer her questions. She is smarter than most people give her credit for though because after we left the mall she drove over to Pleasure Treasures under the guise of needing a few things to keep her date that night interesting__. B__ut I couldn't help but notice when I got home that my Macy's bag had a new vibrator in it that I definitely didn't purchase. I think that was her way of subtly hinting that a little release might be helpful. I knew better than to tell her I didn't need a release._

Why didn't she need a release? Oh hell, did she and I have sex? If I had sex with her and couldn't remember it then I was going to be so pissed. Dr. Walker was going to have to do better than yelling at a grunt to send letters. She was going to have to do some shrink mumbo jumbo and get my memory back. If we had sex I damn well better be able to remember it.

_Bobby called me today and told me RangeMan got word that you were no longer in the country. He promised to let me know of anything he heard along the way but reminded me that he probably wouldn't have another update until the mission was over one way or the other. He was trying to be nice, but we both knew what he way saying._

Sure, he was saying the next time he had an update it would be to tell her that I was dead.

_I'm choosing to believe he was being so nice in an attempt to stay on my good side so that I didn't tell anyone about him enjoying the musical the other night. _

You keep right on believing that Steph. Denial land might be something we all pick on, but only because there were times that we wished we could go there too, even if for just a little while.

_I had dinner at my parent's house tonight and Dad asked about you. He put his hand on my shoulder and told me that I could call him any time night or day and he'd come to where I was. He knew it was hard waiting and __wanted me to know __I didn't need to be alone if I didn't want to be. You don't have any idea why he was acting so strange do you? I know my mom is clueless about everything, but Dad almost seemed to know._

What did he seem to know? The fact that I'm in the same boat as Mrs. Plum isn't exactly comforting here.

_Mom had made some fresh chocolate chip cookies and while dinner was finishing she pulled out a half gallon of vanilla ice cream and two spoons and we made ice cream sandwiches with the fresh baked cookies. They were just warm enough to soften the ice cream without melting them. I think you would have loved them. I can't remember the last time mom and I sat in the kitchen laughing and eating together like that. She nearly dried out the pot roast because we were so distracted. I wasn't sure what portion of the Twilight Zone I had walked into__,__ but I liked it. Between the cookies and a normal night at my parents' house__,__ I had a good night. _

I would have loved watching her eat those cookies. Thank goodness her mother managed to have a good night with Steph. It sounded like she needed something good to fill a little time and for once her mom noticed and did the right thing. I never understood why Steph put herself through the regular guilt trips of her mother's kitchen, but from time to time she would have a good talk with her and it seemed to give Steph a sense of strength that she hadn't had. For whatever reason, Steph needed her mother and I was glad, at least on this night, that she was there for her.

_I guess these mundane details of life in Trenton aren't all that entertaining for you half a world away, but I just felt the need to share a little of my life with you since I know you aren't allowed to share anything about yours. Besides, I know you're somewhere fighting so that people like me can live our little lives oblivious to the evil that wants to hurt us. You are a wonderful man Lester Santos_,_ and I'm so proud to know you._

_Love,_

_Stephanie_

Damn, there was feeling in my chest again. Steph never focused on what any of us did on our missions. It was like the fact that we returned back to RangeMan with blood on our hands and darkness hanging over us meant nothing to her. She looked at it as us doing something in order to secure her life and she would shower us with attention until we adjusted to civilian life again. I know I wasn't the only one that came back from missions in need of her absolution.

I remember Ram being called up for a sniper mission last month, and when he came back his case had four new marks on it. Ram never talked about what he did, but we all new he put a grey line on his rifle case for every life that gun took. The fact that a sniper had been called upon to make four hits in a single mission was intense. He spent his first day back in the gym running, hitting the bag, and lifting weights. He was trying to sweat the memory out of his mind, and we all stepped back to give him the space he needed to do it.

But Steph was on monitors and it broke her heart, so she paid Cal to go to Pino's and get two meatball subs. When her shift was over, she took the food down to the gym despite our protests that it wasn't safe. Hector followed her down and stood outside the door to be there in case she pushed Ram too much and he snapped. She walked up to him with no fear at all and said something none of us could make out. He stopped hitting the punching bag and looked at her for a few minutes with pure rage showing in his eyes.

Then she did the unexpected and she reached out and caressed his face with her palm. He leaned into her touch and shut his eyes. She spoke to him softly and his arms fell by his sides, his exhaustion clearly evident for the first time over his rage. It took her less than ten minutes to break through whatever he was trying to bottle up by working out. Finally, she took his hand in hers and led them both up to his apartment. Two hours later she came out alone, refusing to say a word to any of us.

Bobby said Ram slept for the rest of the day and all that night. The next time I saw Ram he was back to himself and said he just needed a reminder of why he did the things he did in order to let them go. Stephanie went straight home and returned back the next day with the same amount of spring in her step. We never understood how she knew what we needed, but we were all so glad she was willing to give of herself to us.

I folded the second letter and looked at the third. I was torn between wanting to rip it open and devour whatever was in it and wanting to hold back so I would still have something to look forward to. Finally, my curiosity got the better of me and I gently pulled it open to remove the treasure inside.

_Dear Lester,_

_I had some bad news. I'm not sure how to break it to you, but I feel like I have to tell this to someone._

My hand was gripping the arm of the chair and my breathing was increasing. What happened? What had she been forced to endure with me half a world away and clueless about her suffering?

_I took Grandma to a viewing at the funeral home and asked why she didn't have her new guy Ed do it. Apparently, they were trying out some of the new Senior Citizen Karma Sutra and he broke his hip. I couldn't endure the details so I don't know if the break was a result of a fall or a stressful position, but apparently these aren't all safe positions. Grandma said she was going to throw out the book so I guess I won't get a copy of it after all. It should tell you something that I was actually curious about it. You would think new positions wouldn't be something I'd be researching, but you never know…_

Holy shit, she scared me. In the two seconds it took me to read that something bad had happened my mind had gone through every possible scenario and I was prepared for the worst. Reading it a second time, it struck me as funny that her grandmother had thrown out the book since it was obviously to blame for her old geezer breaking his hip. I didn't know if the fact that she and Steph were so similar in so many ways should make me nervous or not, but a big part of me loved the fact that there was hope that Steph would be just as free spirited for her entire life.

_I should probably also tell you__,__ in case you hear from any of the guys, that the incident with the flowers at the viewing was completely not my fault. I was minding my own business__,__ standing near the shrine the widow had set up with her late husband's picture surrounded by candles. But when Grandma tried to lift the lid of the coffin__,__ the deceased's son made a dash to stop her and he accidently bumped me. I was too distracted at the horror of what my Grandmother was about to do to see him rush past me__,__ so when he hit me I lost my balance and fell into the table holding the candles. They in turn fell into the flowers__,__ which for some reason caught fire like nothing I'd ever seen before. You would think the water they were all sitting in would have prevented some of that, but the flames quickly went from arranged floral sprays to potted plants__,__ and before anyone could get a fire extinguisher to put it out__, __all the flowers on one side were ruined. I took Grandma and we ran out the back of the funeral home. For once I understood why my mother kept whiskey in the kitchen pantry. I found myself mumbling 'why me' all the way back to their house to drop her off. Don't worry, I put my clothes in the wash and took a long shower before __settling__ down in bed to write to you. I didn't want to make the bedroom smell like smoke since it still carries a hint of your scent._

I was laughing outright at the image of her practically burning down the funeral home, again. One would think they would lock the door when they saw Steph and her Grandmother approaching together. It seems trouble always follows them there. Of course_, _I knew Stephanie was beating herself up for it too. She might try to brush off the accidents that seem to follow her around, but I knew they embarrassed her. If I had been in town I would have shown up with take out and a movie just to distract her for a while.

_Bobby called to check on me after the news hit the control room. I assured him I was fine and that I definitely didn't want any company. He sounded disappointed, but he didn't press it and let me go._

I was glad Bobby was looking out for Steph since I wasn't there, but another piece of me was irritated that he was disappointed at her not wanting him around. I knew I didn't have a right to be jealous, and even though I didn't have much experience with it, I was pretty sure that jealousy was exactly what this was.

_I have to tell you__ that__ after the adventure with Grandma, I miss you even more. What I wouldn't give to see your crooked grin standing at the door with a bag of take out and a movie. I could use a little escape and you are the only person that ever truly understood that and knew just how to give it to me. I hope you find a way to prove your CO wrong. I need you to come back home. Despite how much I fought it at first, I finally realized that I need you and that is making this whole arrangement that much harder. I'll sleep off my funk tonight and be back to myself tomorrow, but for tonight, I wanted you to know that you were missed…terribly._

_Love,_

_Stephanie_

Oh Beautiful, I miss you too. Before I could get any further into that thought the door swung open and Ben came in, announcing it was time to get back in bed. I hadn't thought about my body while I was pouring over Stephanie's letters, but the moment I saw him I was aware that everything hurt. Whatever happened to me on that mission must have been horrendous for me to still be suffering from it after all this time.

Dr. Walker came in my room close to dinner and was no longer in her fatigues, but a black business suit and moderate heels. Her hair was finally out of the bun she seemed insistent on wearing and it was half way down her back and straight. She had a jacket in her hands and she looked beat. "Hard day?" I asked before I could stop myself.

She smiled and said, "I thought it was my job to ask the questions."

"You can ask them when you look like you aren't about to fall over," I told her, wondering if she had always looked like this and I just hadn't noticed, or if her day had really been that bad.

"Let's just say this wasn't one of my best days by a long shot, but it's nearly over so I'm heading out," she said hoisting the strap up higher on her shoulder of a bag that looked loaded with work to take home.

"If that bag is full of work then your day isn't even close to being over," I told her, wondering why I was suddenly interested in Dr. Walker's life. I mean, she wasn't the enemy, but I still wasn't completely comfortable with the idea that she was the key to me getting released either. Of course, I was obviously not capable of going home as long as I needed Ben to get me up and down and I was only able to lie down or sit in a chair.

She grimaced at my comment and then ignored it, holding out a little white cup instead. I knew meds usually came in those, so I shook my head no indicating I wasn't going to start relying on pain meds now.

"Don't go all strong silent type on me now. This isn't a pain pill for shit's sake; it's is a strong sleeping pill. I'm hoping you can get through a night dream free. Your surgeon is riding my ass about the lack of progress in your nightmares and his concern is that it's beginning to undo his work on your stomach. Apparently, he's not pleased with having to repair your stitches every night, and he's worried about internal effects as well. This should give you eight to ten hours of dream free sleep." Her explanation made sense, so I reached out my hand and popped the tiny pill in my mouth.

"I've cleared some time for you tomorrow, so take advantage of the rest tonight because I plan on making you work in the morning," she warned me with a wicked smile.

It didn't take long before I could feel the effects of the medication and I didn't bother trying to fight it. The idea of dream free sleep was pretty appealing right now. The next morning I tried moving my arms slowly and was pleased to see I wasn't tied down. I guess the pills worked.

No sooner had I thought that than Ben came in for my morning torture. He called it a bath, but truthfully it was an exercise where he moved me under the guise of getting me clean and causing painful fire to spread with every jostle of my torso. "You're starting to look better," he commented as he finished and put a fresh gown back over me.

While I was glad to hear it, I wished I could feel like I was making some sort of progress. He brought me another tray of food that looked as though they had taken the previous liquid diet and thickened it. What I wouldn't give for one of Ella's meals about now.

Just as he finished transferring me to the chair that would be my place to sit for the next few hours, the door opened and the Army version of Dr. Walker came in with her briefcase in her hand.

As soon as Ben left she sat on the bed across from me and smiled. "So where do you want to begin?"

"I figured you'd tell me," I replied bitterly. I couldn't help it, I didn't want to be rude, but the lack of control over anything was starting to get to me.

"I'd love to hear about your mission. I don't need to know who you were sent to eliminate, or classified particulars, but my clearance is higher than yours, so if anything slips out you don't need to worry about it." I wondered just how high her clearance was, but let that detail go.

I turned to look out the window instead of at her, knowing I needed to at least try because if the letters from Stephanie hadn't done anything else, they had convinced me I wanted to get home.

"I got a week's notice that I'd been called for a mission, the final call up of my contract with the government. From the details I got, I was to lead a fresh team of five other guys on their first deployment as Delta Force soldiers. I knew I was being screwed by that detail alone because we always try to mix teams with new guys so there is enough experience to make up for the green members until they get a few notches in their belt. I knew right away I was being set up to fail, but when you get an order there isn't much of a procedure for questioning it." Well, you can question it, but treason was never something that set well with me.

"I was given permission to use the attorney at the base where I'd report for duty to finalize my affairs. There is always a chance to do that, but it's never as prominently mentioned as it was in this letter, so I had my second clue that the Army wasn't planning on me making it back stateside." There was a time in my life when that would have been okay with me, but this time I was infuriated as I felt like I had something worth living for.

"Finally, when I got the manifest of what we would be doing, I realized that in order for their plan to work one member of the team would need to be inside the bunker where our marks were located when a detonation went off to eliminate them. They needed a sacrificial lamb, and as the commander I could have sent in any of my men, but my CO knew I'd never order someone to risk their life while hiding in a damn mountainside cave, so I was going to have to be the person to set off the charge. To be close enough to do it effectively would mean being crushed in the falling rubble if the blast itself didn't get me. I was being sent to my death and there wasn't anything I could do to prevent it, so I tried to make the most good out of the situation." I finished my explanation.

"How do you make the most good out of a situation like that?" Dr. Walker asked to keep me talking.

"I planned on spending every moment with Stephanie that she'd let me." I answered honestly, remembering it as I said it, as though just opening my mouth without trying to plan out the answer allowed the truth to come from me.

"And how did she feel about your mission?" She asked without responding to my answer.

I opened my mouth to answer but there was no information for me to draw on. I shut my eyes and pictured Stephanie seeing her face pale and her eyes fearful. I could almost feel her against my chest as I pictured pulling her to me and rubbing her back to try and calm her sobs. "She was upset," I finally admitted, trusting this wasn't my imagination because the pain was too real to be a dream.

"Have you finished reading her letters?" She asked as an unexpected follow-up.

"Yea," I admitted, unable to stop the smile that came over my face.

"I know that look, so I don't need to ask if you enjoyed them," she said with a smile. "Would you like me to have her brought here to visit you?"

"No!" I practically shouted. I looked back down at the blanket covering my legs, seeing the outline of the cast and knowing the catheter bag was hanging to the side as well. Behind me was an IV pole, and the feeding tube had been in my nose long enough I was beginning to feel accustomed to it. There was no way she could see me like this. I wanted to be the one who protected and cared for her. Seeing me this broken would mean she would have to do things for me, and that would be too hard to accept.

"Why not?" Dr. Walker asked, giving me a sharp look as though I needed to be careful how I answered that question.

"Not like this," I said before looking down once more. "She can't see me like this."

"Do you like the idea of her suffering?" She hit me with another unexpected question.

"What?" I couldn't understand why she would ask that. "Of course not."

"But you said she knew you were basically sent on a suicide mission, and she was upset about it. You had planned on spending all your available time with her, and you know from her letters that at some point during that week you two went from friends to something more. So there is a woman who is probably on edge back home wondering if you are alive or dead, and you are just going to let her hang out there suffering with no information?" Well damn, when she put it like that I sounded like a bastard.

"What else can I do?" I asked her, hating the idea of Steph being upset about me, but still not willing to let her see me this broken down.

A familiar looking envelope was pulled from the front pocket of her fatigues and was placed in my eager hands. "I've been assured that the rest were bundled and sent out yesterday so they should arrive either this afternoon or tomorrow morning at the latest. But before I'll give them to you, there is something I'm going to require you do first."

Dr. Walker opened her briefcase and pulled out a thin board with padding underneath and placed it on my lap. Next she put a legal pad on top and a box of number ten business envelopes. Finally, she handed me a new package of black ink pens. "I'll be back after lunch," she warned me. "You better have a letter waiting for me to mail on your behalf."

And with that command she stood up and left. I don't know if was the camouflage she'd been wearing or the confidence in her tone, but I knew I had no choice but to follow that command. This was one officer I didn't think I was willing to cross.


	4. Mission Details

_JE gets the credit for the characters below._

_Fredda (Rangergirls1234) gets the credit for the clarity below. You are a wonderfully gentle beta._

_Amy (beancounter74) you get the credit for the spunk in Dr. Walker. Hey, it's totally based on you. You keep me sane when my life gets crazy, why not let you work your magic with Lester too._

**Chapter 4 – Mission Details**

How was I supposed to write a letter to Stephanie? I didn't know what had happened before I left, so I didn't want to say anything insensitive or too forward. Did she think I was dead, or was she still operating under the standard RangeMan policy of 'no news is good news'? I must have gone through half the pad of paper, ripping each weak attempt off and throwing it in the general direction of the trash can.

Finally I decided if I were standing in front of her right now, I'd want to see her smile so I wrote the word, _"Boo!"_ at the top of the page and then decided I was going to stick with whatever strange thing my mind came up with and I wasn't going to go through another draft.

_Just so you know I'm not writing you as a ghost from the great beyond, but I had a feeling a letter from me might scare you after all this time_,_ so I hope I've brought a smile to your face._

Honest seemed like a good way to go.

_The mission was screwed up from the first moment and I got pretty banged up. I've been told that my injuries will eventually heal, but I'm no where near ready to be released yet_,_ so it looks like this is how we'll have to communicate for a while. I haven't even been officially debriefed yet, so until that happens I'm in a bit of limbo as far as contact with the outside world. _

It was a bit of a stretch, but still technically true. I knew if I forced the issue I could get her clearance to see me, but officially that was the policy, so I decided to hide behind it for now.

_Three days ago I got your first letter and since then four more have made their way to me. I can't tell you what it's done to read your words and have you with me here. If I get one more letter from you it will double the number of letters I've gotten for the entire time I've been in the army. This was a gift I'll never be able to thank you for_,_ but I hope you'll let me try._

I needed to at least acknowledge what her gift had meant to me.

_According to my doctor there is still a bundle with my CO and they are being forwarded to me tomorrow. I'll have trouble sleeping tonight wondering what you are going to share. _

I wondered if there would be any Victoria Secret merchandise pictures for one thing. My lower body had been out of commission since I woke up here, but something told me it just might spring back to life with a visual like that.

_How is your Grandma's friend Ed doing? Do you think they'll try anything new once his hip heals? For the sake of your reputation, and future visits to the funeral home_,_ I'm hoping he's on his feet pretty soon so that you don't have to take her to another viewing. I know it wasn't your fault_,_ and I'll bet you were pretty upset about it, but you have to admit to a certain bit of humor in it. You were exactly right about what I would have done if I'd been there. Dinner and a movie would have been at the top of a very long list of things I would have tried to make you feel better._

I decided to leave out the fact that nudity would be at the bottom of the list as I saw no reason to scare her off with my twisted mind.

_Unfortunately, until my body begins to heal I won't have much to report that would hold much interest. I just wanted to let you know that somehow I managed to survive and I'll keep fighting until I'm well enough to get home. I hope you'll still be at my condo so I can come home to someone for the first time ever._

_Love,_

_Les_

The ending seemed a little sappy, but it was true, so I let it stay, tore the paper from the pad, folded it, and stuck it in an envelope before I could change my mind. Just as I sealed it, Dr. Walker came in wearing a pretty blue dress. The first thought I had was that the color would be stunning on Stephanie because it would match her eyes perfectly. Then I realized despite her green eyes, the color was quite striking on Dr. Walker too.

I pointed to her and said, "Nice."

"Thanks," she said in a dismissive tone. I got the feeling she didn't get many compliments from guys and was uncomfortable with it. Her arms were bare and the dress clung lightly to her figure, showing she had a few extra curves, but she carried it with a confidence that I thought was attractive. I couldn't help but think once more that she would make a perfect friend for Bobby. When she sat down and crossed her legs, the dress rode up enough that I could see some muscular legs. She may not be slender, but the girl had some definition to her, proving she didn't just wear fatigues, she had earned them. Holy cow, if she liked to work out then I knew Bobby would fall all over himself for this girl. I tried to keep the knowing smile off my face because I didn't think she'd appreciate knowing one of her wacky patients was thinking of a guy to fix her up with.

"You got a letter finished I see," she began, pointing to the newly completed correspondence.

"Everything but the return address," I admitted, not even sure where I was myself.

She held her hand out and I gave her the letter. "I'll take care of that part." Her expression changed and I knew one of her questions was about to come.

"So when you got to Afghanistan, what happened?" When she said she had clearance, she wasn't kidding. The location of my mission should have only been released to an elite few.

My teeth clamped together as the memories came flooding back. "The first seven days were routine surveillance. We got all our marks identified and verified the schedule that had been provided to us. We got our materials together for the device we were to create and utilize and we got busy." It didn't sound like much but that along with setting up a base took a great deal of time.

"On the eighth day all of the marks entered the bunker we'd been told to take out. So I grabbed the device, reviewed the fall back plan with the guys, and told them it had been my pleasure to serve with them. Then I turned around and walked out, expecting those five guys to be the last people I'd ever speak to." I had been pulling away over the last few days to make it easier, but I remembered walking out of our base wishing it didn't have to end like this. I believed in the good of what I was about to do, but at heart I didn't want to do it.

"Did your men know you weren't going to make it out alive?" She asked softly.

"I never told them that, but they knew I was to carry the device in past the place where the caves divided into two passageways and then detonate it while blocking the back exit to insure no one made it out that way. The bomb should take us all out, but in case it didn't, I was to stay there and face the terrorists to be sure they didn't make it out alive. The guys were smart enough to know I wasn't going to make it out, despite the lame plan I gave them of waiting for half an hour after the explosion to hear my radio signal for pick up. They knew I wasn't going to be calling, but they didn't say anything about it." I had to respect them for that.

"And yet here you sit," She said lifting a hand to me, indicating that I was alive despite my conviction that I wouldn't be.

"I hadn't made it to the cave yet when the gun fire began. It was coming from the opposite direction of my guys and was directed straight at them. It was like somebody had the precise location where they were holding up. I had made the call to run the mission a day ahead of the schedule, so I decided to fall back and hold off on detonation today in order to protect the kids I left behind. I knew they were all soldiers and had the same training I did, but I had years of experience too and knowing what you should do, and being able to do it, were two entirely different things."

She nodded as though she knew exactly what I was talking about but she said nothing, giving me the ability to just continue with my story.

"I got halfway back to the guys when a rocket launcher fired on the bunker that I was supposed to be taking out. I ran like hell, not knowing if these were friends or foes, but understanding we were probably screwed either way. Just before I got to our base another launcher attack hit where I thought the guys were. I watched the cave we'd been hiding in collapse and charged to try and get them out. I saw Stevens lying on the ground outside the cave and part of his leg was pinned under some rubble. I was able to get him freed, but he wasn't waking up. While I was trying to get some of the other guys freed there was more machine gun fire, which I retuned while trying to at least protect the one guy I had with me." I stopped talking then, remembering too vividly what happened next.

Dr. Walker waited patiently, not even moving, so that I didn't get pulled back to the present because of her being here. Finally, I got past the sounds of the guys in the cave that were in my head and finished the story.

"I could hear at least two of the other guys calling to me from inside the cave. I guess they were far enough back to have escaped harm from the initial blast that sealed them in. I called to them that I was going to get them out of there, but before I could do anything I heard someone in the direction of the attackers yell my name and then tell me I shouldn't make promises I couldn't deliver on. They launched another rocket into the debris at the opening of the cave and it felt like the whole world exploded around me. It collapsed the rest of the cave, effectively killing the guys inside and threw some rocks and debris that came raining down on top of me. Then they did another sweep of machine gun fire hitting me in the stomach a few times and I know they got Stevens too, in the hip and leg."

"How did you get out?" She whispered, making it seem like she was much further away from me than he few feet from my chair to the bed.

"I don't know exactly. I know I heard the people that attacked us leave, and then I heard a chopper which I figured was ours, but I wasn't entirely sure. I know Stevens and I were picked up and I heard him screaming with pain when they picked him up. The medic said something about the damage to his legs being too great that amputation would probably be necessary. How they knew where to find us, or even that we needed them, I don't know," I finished the story.

"I can tell you that Maxwell, one of the guys in the cave, radioed for help as soon as you left to plant the device. He told control that they were putting the operation into effect and they would need immediate extraction. It took them about an hour to get to your location and the smoke from the collapse of the caves brought them to you." She offered as the first explanation I'd heard for how our rescuers knew to come.

"Damn it!" I growled when I thought through it completely.

"Why is that upsetting?" She asked warily.

"Because that wasn't part of the plan. They had an extraction plan and begging a regular Ranger force for a pick up wasn't part of it." I tried to explain. "All they had were general communication devices. His report could have been picked up and tracked to within a few feet of their hiding place. He basically gave the other guys an invitation of where they should shoot to kill us all." I had a whole lot of anger bubbling up and nowhere to put it. The guy that had given up our location was dead, so he'd already paid for his mistake. The guys that sabotaged us would most likely never be located, so I couldn't do anything to them, and I was bed ridden and couldn't beat the shit out of anything to get the aggression out.

"You know you didn't do anything wrong here," she said but it was just as much a question as it was a fact.

"I know I wasn't the one that gave up the location, and I wasn't the one that pulled the trigger, but I didn't tell them not to deviate from the plan and I didn't warn them about using their communication devices because I assumed they knew what they were dealing with," I explained. "I didn't do it, but I still bear some of the blame."

"Bullshit, Santos," her voice was harder, as though challenging me to try and disagree with her.

I needed to spar with somebody, even it was only verbally. "Bullshit? Then how do you explain those kids that were my responsibility all being dead?"

"They weren't your responsibility. The moment you left them to plant that device, they were to follow the standing orders. The fact that they deviated from them speaks to their caliber of soldier, not your character of leadership," she replied coolly.

"I was the commanding officer, they were my responsibility," I replied with a raised voice.

"And if you'd succeeded in your mission and gotten yourself killed, then one of them did something stupid and got them ambushed on the way to the extraction point, would that have been your fault too?" She pushed loudly.

"I can't save everybody, but they were still under my command. I wasn't dead yet," I argued bringing her back to reality.

"You sound disappointed about that fact," she replied firmly.

"Not disappointed, but relieved. I didn't want to give up my life, but I was going to do it. Instead, the kids that were supposed to make it back to their girlfriends and kids are dead, and I'm here with nothing to offer them about the nobility of their sacrifice," I told her, revealing the thing that bothered me most.

"You've never had a failed mission have you?" She asked, picking up my pseudo admission.

"I've been in some fucked up ones, but one way or another we have always managed to pull off the objective and get back home. I've been sent home shot, cut, bleeding, broken and alone, but never with the truth that I had completely failed," I told her realizing how hard it was to admit.

"But you didn't fail," she tried to point out.

"I didn't complete my objective and I lost my men. There is no greater failure than that," I explained, wondering how she could possibly see it any other way.

"That rocket launcher took out the cave you were about to hit, and you worked to save one of your men, even if it had meant your own life, you would have sacrificed it. Yes, you lost four, but you knew you were in a war zone and those guys signed up for the possibility when they took on a contract to run these types of missions. This mission didn't fail, but our government certainly failed you." By the end her voice was much softer.

"I appreciate what you're trying to do," I said hoping she understood I wasn't just saying that. "But I'll never be convinced that a few more minutes of instruction might have saved the guys and allowed the job of taking out our targets to have been done more thoroughly."

"Are your dreams related to this?" She asked, trying to sneak an answer from me before I had a chance to filter it.

"I have no idea," I told her. "I have no memory of them at all." I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

"They may go away on their own as you deal with what you went through, or they may be unrelated and we'll keep digging until we figure it out," she assured me. Then she straightened up and said, "In the meantime, I'm going to forego sleeping meds tonight and we'll see what happens. I understand a package was delivered for me to the front desk from your CO and I've told Ben once it gets here he can go ahead and deliver it to you. If you want to write Stephanie again, you've got plenty of supplies." She stood up and stretched her head to the side as though trying to release some tension.

"You done for the day?" I asked her, wondering what time it was anyway.

"Not hardly, but I'm leaving the hospital for meetings on base. I'll be back in the morning." I appreciated her volunteering the information. She never treated me as though I were crazy, despite that obviously being the opinion of the first two quacks that came in to talk to me.

She walked to the door, her shoes making a sound with every step, before turning back and saying, "Santos, you're banged up a little, but you aren't broken. We'll get you back home." Before I could respond she walked out leaving me hoping she was right.

Sometime after my pureed dinner a man came in wearing a long white lab coat. Ben was with him and I thought it was strange he was here so late since he usually got me up in the mornings. He was holding a small box and my heart jumped with the idea that it held letters from Stephanie. I started trying to push myself up so that I would be in a position to better receive the gift he was holding.

"This is why I'm getting paged down here every morning to put you back together," the doctor said with little attempt at civility. "Do you realize how serious your injuries are?" As he spoke he adjusted the head of my bed down so that I was nearly flat on my back. Then he lifted the gown up and began to look at the bright red lines running across my stomach, and pressing his way through my abdomen.

"I don't think I've been told exactly what my injuries are other than I took three bullets, and somehow I broke my leg in a few places," I told the man who was currently trying to get my navel to touch my back.

He didn't respond right away and began scribbling in his chart furiously. Then he turned as though he were about to leave but Ben moved to block his way. "I believe the Captain asked you tell him what his injuries were. Nobody's explained it to him and he needs to know."

I struggled to get my blank face under my control as the doctor was clearly intimidated by the wall of muscle who refused to move.

"Mr. Santos," he began without looking up at me.

"It's Captain Santos," Ben corrected him once more. "The man is an officer in the United States Army, and he deserves the respect due his title. If I'm not mistaken, he outranks you." Maybe my orderly was tougher than I gave him credit for. At the moment he was making a damn convincing argument for being a close relation of Tank.

"I apologize for that oversight, Captain," the doctor corrected himself glancing nervously at Ben behind him.

"You took three bullets directly in the abdomen. One went into your large intestine, the second hit your stomach, the third took out your spleen. By the time they got you, you were nearly unconscious from the blood loss alone, but the waste and acid spilling into your abdominal cavity put you into shock and allowed an infection to begin setting in. It's a miracle you didn't die before they got to you; those types of wounds are usually fatal. The first surgery they did in Germany was for an initial repair of the damaged areas and to remove your spleen. Once you stabilized, they brought you here, but the infection grew and I had to go in a second time to remove a small portion of your intestine and to reinforce the repair to your stomach." Well that explained why it felt like I was on fire every time I bent at the waist.

He continued by pointing to my leg. "A third surgery was required to try piecing your leg back together. You took a bullet to the knee, requiring a complete replacement. There was also a complex break to your tibia requiring a plate and three screws to stabilize it. There was an area of your femur that was shattered requiring another plate and several bracing screws. Finally, your coxal bone in your hip had some fractures that we believe will heal without additional surgery if they remain stationary in the cast you are currently restricted to. All the arteries were in tact by some miracle and because of the positive blood flow we believe your leg will heal in time, but you need to be aware that you've got a long road ahead of you."

I nodded that I'd heard everything he said. "So the surgeries to my gut are why I'm not allowed real food," I asked pointing to the tray of untouched swill that they had brought in for my dinner.

He nodded. "Your fever has leveled off over the last two days, so I think we might be making gains in that area. There are a few scans I'd like to run to be sure the corrections we made are holding. If they look good and you want to try it, we can go to a restricted diet for a while to give your system a while to adjust to food again. But since it's been literally weeks since you've eaten, we will have to reacclimatize you to food. It could take a couple of weeks to get you back to where what you eat is enough to sustain you."

I understood that. "I realize it's too soon for this, but when can I start to move enough to get in some kind of modified workout. I can feel my muscles disappearing from just sitting here."

"There has been some atrophy, but it's still too soon for there to be any kind of workout in the way you're used to. Your pain level will tell you when you can begin upper body work. I would think in one to two weeks you could start some free weights, then in a month you might be able to work up to true abdominal work. But it may two or three months before your leg and hip is ready for any kind of true resistance training." He almost sounded upset about that particular piece of information. "There are some other exercises that you probably should be doing while you are restricted so much in movement. Ben can walk you through them tomorrow. You may think they are beneath you, but they are quite important to your recovery."

I nodded again and told him, "Thanks for the info; I'll do what I need to." That was all I felt like giving him and Ben seemed satisfied enough to step out of the way and let him leave.

As soon as he disappeared I looked back at the big guy and said, "Thanks for that. I didn't realize just how bad off I was."

Ben lifted his chin marginally, "No big deal, I've never liked him he seems to have a problem with Dr. Walker, so he never does rounds when she's here." My opinion of the male doctor fell even further when Ben said he didn't respect the shrink. I may not _want_ to talk to her, but I could see was more than competent at her job.

Then he walked over and readjusted my bed to get me in a more comfortable position. "Do you want me to cut the box open?" He asked with scissors in his hand.

I nodded and he quickly opened it before whistling at the number of envelopes inside. "Man you must have you a good woman back home. Even Mama's don't write that much."

I smiled knowing my own mother hadn't written when she was alive, so he might be right about that. Feeling like I needed to say something I admitted, "She's one of a kind."

"You should let her come. There's rooms next to the hospital where family can stay, and I'll look out for her while she's here so you wouldn't need to worry," he told me obviously taking his job very seriously. I didn't feel like going through it with him too that I just couldn't bear Steph seeing me like this.

"You just want a chance to see my woman." I decided to go with a joke instead of a serious response.

"You never know, she might prefer giant black men with a gentle caring side." He laughed in return before heading out and promising to check on me in the morning. "I'll try and get here before you wake up in case they had to put the straps back on you."

I thanked him and wondered how personalities could be so different between Ben and the callous doctor who had obviously forgotten why he went to medical school in the first place.

When the door closed I looked in the box and smiled. There had to be twenty letters in there and one of them wasn't in a long normal envelope. It felt thicker and the size that could hold a few pictures. I checked the date and realized I had a few letters between where I had left off and where this one fell in the order of her sending them. I dumped them all out and began pouring over them trying to sort out the order. I got them in a stack and put them all back except for the three letters before the thick one I hoped had pictures. I was going to try and pace myself and only read these tonight, and then jump into the pictures tomorrow.

I opened the first one and couldn't help the feeling of peace that came over me from seeing her words on the page. It wasn't the same thing as talking to her, but it was a close second right now since I knew it was the best I could do.

_Dear Les,_

_I did it! I know you told me I should take the whole thirty days before filing the paperwork you left with me to be sure it was something I wanted to do, but I decided that an extra twenty five days wasn't going to make a bit of difference so I dropped it off in person just to be sure it was processed. I don't know what that means as far as the guys finding out, or the Burg either for that matter, but I decided I don't really care. I wanted it, you told me I could have it, so I went for it._

Man I was proud of her. Of course I had no idea what in the hell she was talking about, but that attitude was the one I loved the most in her. That take charge, stand up for what you want toughness was damn sexy and I was mad I wasn't there to see it in person.

_I got a skip today. He was a lower end bond arrested for public nudity (apparently he was a serial streaker). I did my normal speech at the door and he ran toward me instead or away from me like they usually do. He tackled me on the front porch__,__ sending us both rolling down the stairs. When we hit the concrete at the bottom I realized he had me pinned to the ground and he seemed to think he had the upper hand. So I took a deep breath and used the moves you taught me that night to get him off of me and in a set of cuffs. It worked so smoothly I'm not sure which one of us was more surprised. Of course, he didn't want to walk to the car and it was further than I thought I could drag him__,__ so I promised if he'd come along nicely I'd let his trench coat hang open when I took him in giving him the ability to flash everyone at the police station on the way to booking. He agreed and the rest of the trip in went smoothly._

She never ceased to amaze me. I didn't remember working with her on self defense, but I'd always wanted to. Knowing how few tools she had to capture the bad guys always made me nervous and the thought that she could get hurt because no one took the time to teach her a few tricks to keep her safe didn't sit well with me. I was glad to know I'd done something to really help her.

_I don't know when you__ will__ read these letters, or if you'll ever get them, but I like to write to you at night. The way we would talk about anything and everything may have only lasted a few nights, but it created a habit in me that I can't let go of. I don't think I can go to sleep if I haven't shared something with you. I'm counting on you to come back so we can go back to our talks. Writing it down is helpful, but it's still just a weak substitute for the real thing. _

_Love,_

_Stephanie_

I had to agree with her there. As much as I loved holding her letters, I knew I'd love holding her even more. Soon Beautiful…soon.


	5. Mystery Papers

_The characters are thanks to the genius of JE._

_Fredda (Rangergirl1234) thank you for the time you spend pouring over my rough versions to beta them into something more readable._

_Amy (beancounter74) thanks for letting me use you as the inspiration for Dr. Amy Walker for the story. I hope you enjoy your visit into the Plum universe._

**Chapter 5 – Mystery Papers**

I came awake with a start and before I could focus, I heard a familiar voice telling me to relax. I focused to my right and saw Ben watching me with his hands held out as though showing me he wasn't a threat. Beside him was a man, if possible, even bigger than he was who was working to get the restraints off my wrists.

"Captain, this is my cousin Marcus. He's usually on at night when I'm gone, but I wanted to see if we could get these off before you woke up, and since you didn't know him I thought you might prefer to hear it from me." Ben spoke quickly to let me know why they were in my room and I relaxed, allowing Marcus to finish his work.

Then I remembered Ben saying I busted the lip of his cousin a few days earlier and figured I might should try and make up for it, "Sorry about your lip," I said causing the big man to look surprised and then touch it almost involuntarily. "I didn't know it was you."

"S'alright," he assured me, proving Ben was certainly the conversationalist in the family.

"Captain, we're going to get you to imaging this morning so they can do that scan the doctor talked about last night. If all the holes are still plugged up the right way then you can start on some real food today." That seemed like good news to me, so I nodded.

Then Marcus decided to speak up with a quiet, somewhat nervous voice, "Umm, last night when you were fighting you knocked your box over and the letters went everywhere. I tried to pick them up but I didn't know if they went in order so I just put them back in the box."

I looked at Stephanie's letters and saw the box was once again full, but they were not neatly organized the way I'd left them last night. I was glad he told me that or I'd have been pissed as hell that someone had dared to touch that piece of her. I leaned my head in the direction of the box and said, "Thanks for picking them up. I don't mean to fight at night…" I wanted to apologize, but this was more than I could handle all of a sudden.

"S'alright," he repeated his word from earlier. "I know it's hard to come back like this. I made sure the guys helping me get you secure didn't touch anything. It's all there." With that, he turned and walked out.

I looked at Ben feeling like Marcus had just said something important and I was too groggy to figure out what it was. "Marcus served in Iraq and came back a different man. He went through some shit he never talks about, but every so often he dreams about it and it ain't pretty. If anybody understands, it's him."

"But the letters," I attempted to ask. It's like he knew how important they were to me.

"He had a wife back then too. Like I said, if anybody understands, it's him." I knew that was all Ben was going to say about it, so I let it go and he left the room.

I wasn't sure how much time I had, so I grabbed the larger envelope I'd saved last night and opened it quickly hoping there were indeed pictures in there. A short letter fell out along with three photos. I went for the pictures first. On top was a picture of Stephanie leaning on my Mustang wearing one of my Army t-shirts and a smile. Her hair was down and I ached to be able to reach into the snapshot and bury my hands in her curls while pushing her across the hood and taking her in whatever parking lot the picture was from.

Shaking my head of that thought I flipped to the next one which was of the two of us in Atlantic City. Steph was sitting on a pool table and I was standing between her legs, leaning her back slightly. The picture was hot as hell because it looked as though we were only a few seconds away from me taking her right there in front of everyone.

The final picture was another of us both. My hands were on her face holding her gently to me as we kissed. I wouldn't describe it as sexy; this was more of the kind of kiss you give to someone to show them how adored they are. It screamed of tenderness and I ran my fingers over it wishing it were real right now.

I flipped through them at least a dozen times before picking up the single piece of paper that accompanied them.

_Hey Les,_

_I figured you might want a few pictures from our trip before you left. I printed them off your computer at home so no one else would see them, but after looking at them for a while I have to admit that I framed the two shots of us together and have them sitting next to the bed upstairs. _

I smiled because it meant that she must like them as much as I did, plus it meant she was still staying in my condo. I knew the bedroom was upstairs in my unit and no other place she had access to was more than one floor.

_I got an envelope from DC and saw the return address was the US Army. I dropped the letter too scared to open it. I was so sure it was bad news that I had the phone in my hand to call my Dad to come sit with me while I faced it. Finally_,_ I decided that if you were brave enough to face whatever was being thrown at you that I needed to be brave enough to do the same thing. So I ripped it open and burst into tears in relief when I saw it was just insurance paperwork that you completed before you left to add me to your policies. I told you that you didn't need to worry about that on top of everything else you had to handle before leaving, but I'm not the least __bit __surprised that you did it anyway. You are a stubborn man._

How did I get her on my insurance? Maybe that was part of the arrangements I made to be sure she was taken care of before I left. If I could get the Army to cover her then she would finally have the insurance she would need to relax and I would have the peace of mind that she was taken care of no matter what. I'd still like to know how I managed to get her on the policy.

_Thank you for taking the time to think about me despite all the other things you must have had on your mind. You have always been a man of your word and this shouldn't have shocked me one bit. I hope wherever you are that you're being careful. I went by St. Michael's this afternoon and said a prayer for you. I can't tell you how long it had been since I did that but something told me I needed to and it made me feel better to be able to talk to God about you without worrying about what anyone else would say. _

_Love,_

_Stephanie_

My hand flew up to my chest to try and rub out that now familiar ache. The letters she was writing had already shown me that she cared for me more than anyone ever had, but knowing she had gone into a church to pray for me was almost more than I could handle. No one had done that since my mother died years ago. Knowing that she had done it made me yearn for something I knew couldn't be mine.

I knew it couldn't be, yet I wanted it so much it hurt. I wanted her to know how much I loved her. I treasured her friendship and wouldn't want to lose it for anything, but I wanted more than that. I wanted to hold her in my arms at night without having to justify it as protecting or comforting her. I wanted to do it because I loved the feel of her there. It sounded like something had changed between us, but I still couldn't remember what it was and that lack of information was beginning to piss me off.

I picked up the pictures again trying to remember when they were taken. The kiss between us certainly didn't look like any of the quick pecks I'd been sneaking just to have an excuse to put my lips on hers. This one was intentional and slow. It didn't look like she was in any hurry to push me away either. Her hands were on my shoulders and it looked like she was gripping the olive dress shirt I was wearing.

I was lost enough in the picture that Dr. Walker came in and got close enough to peek at what I was looking at and comment, "Yea, I think you're right about the two of you moving past just friends. I have lots of friends and none of them could get away with kissing me like that."

I looked up at her and smiled despite myself. "I believe it because I can see it, but I still don't remember a damn bit of it." By the end of my confession the smile was gone as the reality set back in. Something special was going on and I couldn't get my head around what it was. How could I forget about time I spent with the person I adored more than anyone else? 

"You haven't forgotten," Dr. Walker interrupted what I thought was my thoughts. "The memories are in your head, we just haven't cleared out some of the trash that's in the way so that they are safe to come back to the surface. Trust me, you haven't forgotten anything."

I nodded and she sat in the chair I had been using lately. "It looks like your mail arrived," she began pointing to the box in the bed with me.

I looked down at it, "Yea, after hearing my prognosis from the MD last night I figured I should read them slowly since I'm going to be out of commission for a while."

"What an asshole," Dr. Walker mumbled under her breath. "Did he tell you you'd be out of commission?"

I was glad Ben had warned me last night about the tension between my doctors, but I think the swift change in her demeanor would have made it abundantly clear that no love was lost between them.

"He didn't use those words, but he did tell me that it will be over a month before I can do any kind of real exercise, and it will be a few months at the earliest before I can do any resistance work with my leg. By then I'll be completely out of shape, so I'm looking at a long road back to normal," I summed up what I thought I heard last night.

"These damn doctors who think patients are better off laying still all day every day until their perfect stitches heal need to get their heads out of their asses and learn to let you tell us what you can handle." She was looking out the window and the tension in the room was suddenly so tense I felt like I was standing between Ranger and Morelli when Steph had just lost a car.

She reined it in with a skill few people possessed, hiding her true feelings behind a veneer of professionalism and said, "You need to take it easy for a few more days. But once you are able to digest real food again then you are fine to move around as your pain level allows. You can't do curls or sit ups, but you can get in a wheel chair and push yourself around so that can work your upper body and give you a change of scenery."

That was the best news I'd heard in a while. It hit me that this room was all I'd seen in a week and I had a new appreciation for how Steph used to complain about being stir crazy when we tried to lock her up for her own protection.

We spent the next hour talking about some of the intricacies of my mission and Dr. Walker seemed to be especially interested in the one sentence interaction between me and the assailant who warned me not to make promises I couldn't keep before he killed the guys trapped in the cave. She seemed to think there was something important about that one sentence interchange and had me think back over his voice, his lack of an accent, and the fact that he knew my name despite me not having it posted on the fatigues I was wearing. She was convinced if he knew me that I probably knew him too, but in the end I couldn't come up with anything concrete and when Ben came to get me for the scans I was ready to put an end to our useless conversation.

After he returned me to my room I was placed in the chair once more and left with a ginger ale and my box of letters. I promptly dove in, unable to hold back and go through them slowly. I needed to feel connected to something good and normal and get my mind out of the destruction and death of Afghanistan. As far as I was concerned, the only thing keeping me from giving up and going back to my silence was this pile of handwritten notes. Some chopper pilot and a group of soldiers may have picked up my body, but I would always insist that it was Stephanie that saved my life. It was only for her that I was trying to stay connected to get my full memory back.

Over the next five days I read her letters and laughed when she shared details of skips or misadventures with her grandmother or Lula and a few times I ached when she talked about feeling alone and missing me until it hurt. When she confessed about her hand coming up to her chest anytime she heard my name I looked down and saw I was doing the same thing. I didn't understand how I could feel both closer to her and further away at the same time.

Dr. Walker encouraged me to write back to Stephanie and I'd started letters almost everyday but I hadn't finished any of them. Compared to the lively reports she sent me, mine always seemed to fall flat.

I tried to answer all Dr. Walker's questions in order to get to the bottom of why I couldn't remember what happened with Stephanie before I left on my mission. Dr. Walker wasn't as concerned about that as I was since she was convinced it would all come flooding back to me once we got rid of whatever other baggage I was hanging onto.

On this particular morning I dutifully finished my plain oatmeal, wondering how my body would react to real food with flavor and texture. I'd been cleared for a bland diet for three days now and found it was a chore to eat any of it and that rarely could I finish any of the small servings being provided. The prick of an MD came the day I finished my first bowl of pureed chicken and rice soup and horrified me by telling me about how my bowel habits would be impacted and how they would need to carefully monitor my body's input and output of food. I realized what he was basically saying was, you thought you had all your dignity taken from you before, but you haven't even come close to feeling like a useless shell of a man until now.

After eating my breakfast I picked up the last letter and wanted to save it, but knew I wouldn't be able to. I had greedily worked through nearly a month's worth of daily correspondence in a few short days and I was already grieving the fact that there weren't more for me to delve into.

I repeated my pattern with the final piece of home. I lifted it to my nose and took a long sniff, hoping to pick up some clue about what she'd been doing when she wrote me. Then I flipped it over and looked to see if there were any strange notes on the back. A few of them had lists of errands or chores and I had to laugh at the idea that she'd probably stuck them in the mail not realizing the scrap of paper she'd used had been sent to DC. I could almost hear her swearing about losing her to do list and having to start all over.

This particular envelope didn't have any extra writing so I flipped it back to the front and saw she had addressed it the same as all the others before looking at the return address. She was still using my condo address, which never failed to make me smile. I almost didn't notice the name above the address, but when it registered in my brain I was shocked and sat there staring. Instead of it saying S. Plum as all the others had, it simply read, "Santos." I figured she was just playing a joke on me since it was being mailed from my house but that ache of what I wished could be returned with a force as I imagined what it would be like to have her as my wife.

At that moment Dr. Walker came in with a wheel chair and Ben. She informed me that today's talk was going to happen in her office because she felt like I needed a change of scenery. Ben lowered the rail on my bed and helped me to swing around into a seated position, then I shifted to stand on my good leg and Ben helped me to spin and sit in the chair. He got my casted leg settled at an angle to not cut off the circulation and then covered me with a blanket before announcing I was good to go.

"Do you want to bring the letter with us?" She asked, seeing the fact that I'd held onto it instead of sitting it aside as I normally did when she entered the room. I considered leaving it in the room, but my gut told me that wasn't the right move, so I sat it in my lap and put one hand over it to keep it safe as we moved.

The first thing I noticed was that this wasn't a mental hospital as I figured it was. This was a normal medical wing. "I thought you were the head shrink here," I said as she moved me through a long hall.

"I am. This is the VA hospital in Manhattan," she explained giving me the first clue about where I was. "Where did you think you were?" She asked.

I shrugged. "In a mental hospital full of padded rooms," I finally admitted.

"I told you that you weren't crazy," she quickly replied. "The two doctors that evaluated you first had written orders to have you transferred to a facility specializing in mental breakdowns for veterans, but a transfer like that required my approval and when I read your case file something didn't sit well with me about it. I rarely get to work with patients anymore since I became an administrator, but I knew there was no way I was going to let the medical system fail you when it became apparent to me from your mission notes that the government had already let you down."

She turned and led us to what seemed like a cafeteria and parked me next to a window before sitting down in front of me to finish talking. "I stepped in and conferred with your treating physician to see if there was a medical reason to keep you here. He became all high and mighty about how you were way too sick to transfer and even though I still think he's a pompous ass, it was a nice excuse, so I allowed him to stay in charge of your care as an additional excuse to block your transfer. Of course I had no idea how he'd abuse that and try and turn you into an invalid in the name of saving you from injuries that probably would have killed you with a less gifted physician."

"I didn't think you liked the guy," I said and wondered where the compliment came from.

She grimaced slightly before saying, "I don't, but he is really good at what he does, so we try to avoid each other for the most part in the name of keeping up a professional appearance in front of patients." Well that answered a few questions at least.

"I've been thinking about your memory block and about what happened just before you left on your mission," she began looking at me carefully for any reaction. "Then it hit me this morning when I was at the range that you assumed you were not coming back and you told Stephanie that too, right?"

That much I was pretty sure about. "Yea, I know she was upset about it and we had sort of an unspoken deal not to focus on that, but to enjoy the few days we had left." I had a few patchy memories that didn't give me a lot, but they did let me know that much was true.

"Then on the mission you admitted that the closer it got to time for you to detonate that device, that the more you pulled away from the guys, right?" She asked, trying to be sure she wasn't putting words in my mouth.

"That's right. I didn't want them upset about losing me, so I intentionally didn't try to get in tight with any of them," I explained.

"But in your file you are described as the personable one in the group of Rangers you most often served with. You were the talkative one with the people skills, so I would think that in order to stop the guys from getting attached you had to shut down your emotions pretty tightly." She was clearly speculating, but it made sense so I didn't interrupt.

"Then your whole mission gets screwed up, you are practically killed, four of the kids you were protecting are dead, and you know you were betrayed by someone from this country," she continued on when I nodded that she was still on the right path.

"Now you're stuck in a hospital room with no control over your life, you are dead in every way except that you're still breathing. You consider your mission a failure, you already severed your relationships back home, and the idea of going back there with a mission that didn't end well isn't sitting well with you. Before you disagree with me think about this," she paused getting my full attention before tightening her jaw as though she knew what she was about to say was going to piss me off.

"Is there any chance you used the suicide mission to pull Stephanie into a relationship with you?" I opened my mouth to object just because of how harsh it sounded when she said it aloud, even though at heart I had suspected the same thing.

Dr. Walker kept talking, eliminating my chance to stop her. "If you did and you guys did something like get married so that you could provide for her in your death with military benefits, life insurance, your home and assets, then it's also possible that you feel like you failed her too. You convinced her to marry you so that you could provide for her, and since you're still alive all of that provision isn't there. Didn't you mention that she had a serious aversion to marriage?"

"Her first husband literally screwed her over and her long time boyfriend was constantly trying to force it on her while the man I think she secretly loved was too afraid of a relationship to ever entertain something like marriage." Stephanie wasn't averse to it, she was terrified of it.

"So if you married her there might be some fear there that if you arrive home all healthy and happy that she might resent you for trapping her in an institution that she clearly didn't want to be in," Damn, I hadn't thought of it that way, but suddenly seeing Stephanie didn't sound as appealing as it had. I seriously doubted we were married, but if we were, everything Dr. Walker said made sense.

"What do I do?" I asked her, afraid to know the answer.

"We need to find out if you're married. I'd hoped her letters would say something one way or the other and give you a memory of what happened, but since that hasn't happened, I requested your personnel file from the benefits bureau that contains all your personal information. I figured if you wanted to you could look at it alone, or we could read over it together. I only asked for the updates filed in the last three months," she explained, pulling a file from the back of my chair and sitting it on the small round table between us.

I looked at it as though the answers I wanted would be contained, but I was too scared to read it. I was not some nervous boy that couldn't face down my fears, so I pulled the envelope to me and tore it open. Inside was an unassuming manila folder with half a dozen pieces of paper in it. The first was a request to add Stephanie to my military insurance. I had filled out the application and recognized my handwriting and signature. In the dependent section I had listed her as Stephanie Michelle Plum and the relationship selected was spouse.

I moved that paper to the bottom of the stack thinking it was possible I'd lied about being married since her name was still Plum. Next was a marriage certificate from a Justice of Peace in Atlantic City. Apparently the trip we took was to get married. The next three papers were various forms I'd completed naming Stephanie as my beneficiary and claiming her as my spouse. There was a last will and testament prepared by the attorney per my commission letter stating everything that was mine was to go to my wife, Stephanie Plum. I'd even specifically spelled out the condo, every effect from my apartment at RangeMan, my car and any other effects were to be hers alone. The final two pages stapled together were notarized by the county clerk in Trenton that the marriage license had been filed and an application to change the name of one Stephanie Michelle Plum to Stephanie Plum Santos had been received and processed.

I was married to Stephanie and more than that, she taken the extra step on her own to change her name. I guess now I knew what she was talking about when she spoke of sending off the papers I left with her. She'd filed our marriage in Trenton and taken my last name. Then the image I had in my mind of my departure where she was upset and I was holding her against me flashed back. Her fingers were pressed over my last name on my fatigues and I could hear her saying, "I don't want to wait, I want the world to know that I'm yours." I kissed her on her forehead and reminded her that she still had a month to file the papers in case she changed her mind and then I told her she was "my girl". It was crystal clear now.

I tossed the file on the table and picked up the letter in my lap that had Santos in the upper left hand corner. This wasn't an act, she wasn't just recognizing that she was living in my condo; she had changed her name and taken mine. This was her way of announcing to the world she was my wife. I completely ignored Dr. Walker and opened the envelope careful to not tear the writing on the front.

_Dear Les,_

_Bobby came to see me today and he had a copy of the papers that I filled a few weeks ago. Apparently, anything that affects you is also forwarded to the Army benefits division and a copy is then forwarded to RangeMan who keeps the notification instructions should anything happen to you. He asked if it was true and I told him it was. I know you said I didn't need to tell anyone, but I wanted to. The last few weeks I've been about to burst with the joy of knowing I had finally found someone who understood me and loved me_,_ yet I couldn't tell anyone about it. _

_Bobby congratulated me then he got all serious and asked if I really understood about the mission you were on. I knew he couldn't say anything and you'd sworn me to secrecy but I felt the need to confirm it_,_ so I told him that I was aware the person calling the shots was under the impression the odds were stacked against you, but I was convinced you would make it home. Bobby didn't seem as sure as I was and he asked if I wanted to stay at RangeMan for a while. I'm guessing he knew something I didn't know yet and it wasn't good news_,_ so he was trying to keep me close by in order to keep an eye on me. I considered it, really I did, but in the end I decided this was the home you brought me to, and this was where I wanted to stay. At least until someone told me I couldn't be here anymore._

_I'm not giving up on you Lester Santos. Until a group from the Army arrives with a letter informing me of your death I will refuse to believe that you are gone. You promised to fight with everything you had in you to get back to me, and I'm holding you to it. You told me you would have no peace until we were together again and__ I__ believe you because I know it's true. I don't care what state you're in, I want to know when my husband is back in this country. I'll beat that little twit in DC if I have to in order to get the information, but I need to know when you're home. I need to know you're okay_,_ and I need to know that the prayers I've been offering for you were answered. _

_I love you Lester, and I need you to come back to me. We need each other and it's time to start building our future and quit hiding from the past._

_Love,_

_Stephanie_

I read the letter twice to be sure I wasn't wrong about what it said. Finally, I let it fall into my lap and I looked at Dr. Walker and said, "I'm married."

"Congratulations," she replied with a knowing smile.

"I've got to get the hell out of here and get home," I finally said ready to fight whoever it took to make that happen.

Then her expression changed, "I agree you need to get home, but you can't go yet."

"Why not? I thought you were all for showing the MD what I was really capable of doing physically," I pushed her itching for a ride home.

"Because you aren't ready to go home yet," she said quietly.

"Oh I'm ready alright. We've got a medic at my office who can handle my recovery, and I am definitely ready to see my wife," I assured her.

"And what about that first night back?" She asked bringing a smile to my face when I thought about the heaven it would be to fall asleep with Stephanie in my arms. Dr. Walker lifted her chin defiantly and continued, "You go back home and she climbs in bed next to you and you both drift off to sleep holding onto each other, trying to make up for lost time by clinging tightly so that there's no distance between you. Then a few hours later you have one of your terror dreams where your muscles are awake, but your mind isn't and the soldier who fights Ben and Marcus with such strength that they come away with injuries turns that wrath on his defenseless sleeping wife instead. You'd have her out cold with the first punch and the injuries you'd give her after that could kill her. I'm not trying to keep you two away from each other; I'm just trying to keep this real."

I'd never felt as defeated as I did at that moment. I couldn't be around Stephanie because I couldn't risk hurting her. "I can't go home." I admitted.

"Not yet, but you will be able to," she assured me tenderly. "Obviously, you haven't always dreamed like this because you two have slept together and she was fine."

"Well how can I stop the dreams? I've tried talking; I've told you everything I know I just can't remember what they're about, so I can't do anything to fix them." I complained.

"I think we need to change our tactic," she explained. "I'd like to have someone sit with you tonight and let you fight it out for a little while and listen to see what you're saying. The guys say you're talking when they are working to restrain you and get the injection in you, but they aren't focused on what your mouth is saying, they are more in tune with your fists. Since you aren't in danger of ripping your stitches anymore, I'd like to let you fight it out for a while and then try to record what's being said so that we can discuss that."

"Alright, but who is going to be listening?" I asked, uneasy about having someone in my room while I was asleep.

"Marcus could do it," she suggested and I thought back to what Ben said about how if anyone would understand it would be him, so I agreed.

Then Dr. Walker stood and put all the documents back in the envelope and handed them to me to keep. "This is your life Santos, you hang onto it." Then she began to walk away, so I called out to her and noticed a smile on her face when she spun around.

"Aren't you forgetting something," I prompted when she said nothing.

"No, I think I've said everything I meant to," she said with that teasing smile still in place.

"How am I supposed to get back to my room?" I asked, pointing to my casted leg as evidence that I needed help with the chair.

"Do your arms work?" She asked, taking another step away from me.

I looked down, understanding what she meant and nodded. "Good, if you want to get back, then figure it out. There are some things a man needs to do for himself."

And with that she left me alone to get myself back to my room. As I began to use my muscles for the first time in way too long, I knew in my heart that her reference about me needing to do some things for myself was about more than just wheelchairs.


	6. Reaching Out

_The characters below are the product of the genius of JE, not me._

_Fredda (Rangergirl1234) I can't thank you enough for all you do as the beta on this story. Please know that I depend upon your skills and treasure your talent for making sense out of my madness._

_Amy (beancounter74) thanks for being the model for Dr. Amy Walker. _

**Chapter 6 - Reaching Out**

I parked my new set of wheels near the window to be closer to the light and pulled the pad of paper and a pen from the tray to my right. Dr. Walker had told me I needed to figure some things out for myself and I was going to start that right now. If Stephanie was my wife, then I needed to start acting like her husband and not the broken version of man I had been since I got back to the States.

_Beautiful,_

_I know my silence since I got back from my mission has probably hurt you__,__ and I'm so sorry for that. I got banged up and my body isn't even close to being back to normal. The doctor here promises I'll heal, so there is hope that I'll make it back to you in one piece._

That was the easy part to confess. I had to take a deep breath and suck up my male pride to finish the rest of what I knew she deserved to hear.

_I have to be honest with you; my mission was horrible and not at all successful. The wounds on my stomach and leg aren't the worst symptoms I brought back with me. There are some holes in my memory as well. I can piece together everything up to the point I was called up for duty, and then I have all the details from when I got on the plane for my mission, but that final week of us together before I shipped out is patchy at best. _

I knew those words would hurt her even more so I tried to soften them a little.

_I have some memories, some wonderfully sweet memories__,__ of us together, and your letters and those pictures helped to bring even more back to me. But seeing the paperwork you filed, changing your name from Plum to Santos__,__ overwhelmed me with an emotion so strong I don't have a word for it. You know I love you; I made no secret of it. But knowing that you return that feeling, and felt confident enough in it you wanted the world to know has given me a new strength to try and fight through the issues I have here to get better enough to come home._

I knew I hadn't said enough to let her know how much I love her. I hadn't thanked her strongly enough for her letters and for never giving up on me, but I couldn't find the words to do it right. Hopefully, she would be able to read between the lines and understand why I didn't know how to say it.

_Apparently__,__ at night I have nightmares of some sort that I can't remember. They must be bad, because according to the staff I am fighting mad and strong enough despite my injuries to hurt some of the guys trying to hold me back. I would love nothing more than to have you here with me, but until I get a hold on these dreams and figure out how to stop them, I can't risk hurting you. I hope you know that I'll do whatever it takes to get rid of this final roadblock to seeing you again. I have a feeling I'd be able to heal better if I had you by my side, but I refuse to put you in any danger__,__ and apparently being with me might be dangerous for you._

I hoped by sharing that she would understand why I wasn't asking her to come. I wanted her to understand it wasn't because I didn't want her, it was only because I couldn't stand the idea of thinking I might hurt her.

_I know I've been quiet since my return but I'm going to try and write a little more often to let you know what's going on and when you might be able to expect me back. I don't want to mislead you; I've got a long recovery__. B__ut with the motivation of seeing Mrs. Santos, I'll work through whatever I have to in order to get back to you._

_I love you,_

_Les_

I tore the paper off the tablet, put it in an envelope, and addressed it before rolling myself back into the hall and to the nurses' station where Ben was standing. He looked at me and smiled, giving me an opportunity to ask if he could get the letter to Dr. Walker to mail. He took it and I knew he would see it was handled properly. The guy was big, but he had a way of getting under your skin in earning trust.

Having finished that, I realized I had little to do for the rest of the day, so I went back to my room and began thinking back through the ambush that Dr. Walker had asked about so often. I replayed the sound of the voice behind me warning me not to make the promise of saving my guys because it was a promise I couldn't keep. There was a familiarity to that voice. I was sure it wasn't any of the guys from RangeMan. I had all the voices there committed to memory. It was not only a gift, but it was a necessity when we worked in blackout conditions. We needed to know which voices we could trust and which ones were foreign to the team.

If he wasn't from RangeMan then how could I possibly be sure I recognized it? Then I got a bright idea and rolled myself back to the nurses' station where Ben raised an eyebrow, giving me the chance to ask if there was a phone I could have access to. He pointed to the one in front of him and moved it closer to me. "Press nine to get an outside line," he advised before getting up and working at the table further away to give me the illusion of privacy.

I picked up the phone and dialed the number of my handler in DC. It was answered by a young kid that I didn't recognize, so I identified myself as Captain Lester Santos and asked to speak to Hebert Stewart. The kid coughed when I said my name and then he asked the strangest question, "Sir, did you receive your letters?"

"My letters?" I repeated, unsure of what he meant.

"Yes sir, I promised your wife I would be sure you got them and I hoped I had kept my word. I wouldn't want to face her if they had been lost in some way," he reported with the most hilarious sound of fear in his voice.

"What's your name?" I asked trying to soften the edge in my voice so that he might tell me.

"Johnson, sir," he replied nervously. "Eric Johnson."

"Well Johnson, I'll be glad to let her know they all arrived. I'm sure she'll be glad to hear you were so accommodating," I told him trying to keep the laughter out of my voice.

"Thank you sir," he replied quickly before adding, "I'll patch you through to Mr. Stewart."

I waited, still smiling about how Stephanie had so intimidated that kid that he was more afraid of her reaction than mine should her letters have been mishandled. I guess I knew now why they hadn't been shredded upon arrival. I wasn't sure what happened to Stewart's last assistant, but I was glad he was gone. The old one was military and wouldn't have been as easy for Steph to intimidate.

I was pulled from my thoughts when the line was picked up and a gruff voice said, "Stewart here."

"Stewart, it's Santos," I said wondering how he would respond to the news that I wasn't dead.

"Santos, I hear your last mission didn't run according to plan," he said cryptically.

"Not your plan, but the end result was the same as the targets were eliminated," I assured him.

"I guess that should provide some measure of comfort," he admitted, but his voice sounded anything but comforted. "Was there something you needed?"

I had to get a handle on my anger at the way he was treating me. I had walked into the mountains of that shithole mission willing to give my life for my country, and he was treating me as though I were some useless piece of shit because I lived to tell about it.

"We were ambushed sir," I began before he interrupted me.

"Damn it Santos, are you on a secure line?" He barked out at me as though I were a green hand at security.

"No, I'm not, but I figured since no one had bothered to show up to debrief me you might appreciate knowing that I had information that probably needed to be reported to someone," I explained.

"I sent someone there two weeks ago but between your injuries and the fact that you had taken some strange vow of silence, it didn't go well. I told them to get a shrink in there to loosen your tongue and then call me, but the two guys I suggested apparently weren't able to make much progress. What happened to change your condition?" He asked making me think he was unaware of Dr. Walker working with me.

"I got a new doctor who knew the right questions to ask," I told him.

"Who? There's nobody else there but Walker, and she doesn't practice. As far as I know the only things she's good for is recertifying guys to go back in the field and meeting with suits." His opinion of my shrink had me seeing red.

"Apparently she's good for some other things too," I warned him.

"Shit Santos, I knew you had a thing for women, but I heard you got hitched, so I figured you might slow down. Besides, she's not the best looking thing. Surely you could have found a nurse around there somewhere willing to give you sponge bath. You didn't need to tap that no matter how desperate you might be." I had no response to that. He wasn't in front of me so I could snap his neck and my anger was quickly chocking my more logical brain.

Then he pushed one sentence too far. "I've seen a picture of your wife. The famous Bomber is quite a looker. From what I've heard she isn't drop dead gorgeous either, but she's got fire. The kind of spirit a man would like to break."

In the back of my mind I knew I should keep my mouth shut. If people thought she was nothing more to me than a good lay then they might be less inclined to try and use her to get to me, but my mouth had ideas of its own. "If you treasure your life, you'll stay the hell away from my wife. If I even think you've so much as cast a look in her direction, I'll see to it you don't take another breath."

"Settle down Santos," he replied with a laugh. "I'll send someone up there to do your debriefing, and then you can worry about that pretty thing and if she's as interested in a man who isn't the same as the one that left her a month ago. Something tells me worrying about her would be a full-time job for her husband."

I slammed the phone down, wondering if he intended that last bit as a threat to her safety or to my sanity. I picked up the phone and dialed a cell phone number I knew by heart, waiting for that familiar voice to answer. "Brown."

"Bobby, I need a favor," I blurted out, aware it probably wasn't what he was expecting to hear when he took this call.

"Les, man, where the hell are you?" He asked, stumbling over the words while probably trying to figure out how I was alive.

"I'm in a VA hospital in Manhattan," I told him before he jumped back in.

"I'll get a truck and come down to pick you up. I can have you back home tomorrow," he volunteered.

I had to interrupt him, "Man, hold on. I've got too many new holes in me to go home yet. But, I'm not calling for me; I need your help with something else."

"Name it," he said with a tone that assured me no matter what I asked, he'd do it. That's why this man had been by my side since I was eighteen. We trusted each other, and to say we had each other's backs didn't give justice to the trust we held for each other.

"My mission," I started wondering how much I could say before it was crossing the line of classified information.

"Yea, obviously if you're stateside something didn't go according to plan," he jumped in saving me the trouble.

"That's an understatement," I replied letting him know we'd been betrayed. "I think there's a lose end from what went down and it may know that before I left I changed my marital status."

"About that, man," Bobby said with what I knew was a smile. "I'm hurt. I figured I'd get to be your best man if the day ever came that Lester Santos hung up his swinging shoes. There should have been one hell of a bachelor party, and you didn't say a word."

"You've met my wife; do you blame me for jumping when I had the chance?" I asked.

He laughed out loud. "Not a bit," he assured me before getting suddenly serious. "Is Bombshell in danger?"

"I don't know," I admitted, wishing I had more to go with than the bad feeling in my gut that was totally unrelated to my sutures. "I just talked to my handler, and he said some things that put me on edge. I can't get home yet, and I need to know she's being looked after."

"We always look over Steph," he reminded me quickly.

"But this is more than just casually watching over her man. If this beats me home then it's got the potential to bring some serious shit," I warned him, hoping he'd understand how serious this was.

"I've got her man, don't worry. I've got your back. I would have watched over her like the little sister she's always been to me, but knowing what she is to you and seeing how much she's missed you the past month, I'll watch her like she was my own." His words gave me the first real breath I'd taken since I wheeled myself out here.

"Not too much your own," I tried teasing.

"Shit man, you know she ain't my type. I mean she's fine and all, but I like a little more, you know?" I remembered my thought that my shrink might make a good woman for Bobby and smiled.

"I got you," I replied, knowing I should probably get off the phone before I said too much.

"You want me to tell Steph I've heard from you?" He asked, trying to cover my ass so Steph didn't get mad at me.

"I wrote her a letter, but I can't see her yet. I've got to get over some of this first." I knew it sounded like a weak excuse, but I also knew that the guy that knew me better than anyone else would understand what I was saying.

"No worries, I'll let her know you're stateside and injured, but pulling through and once you are able to be transferred, someone will let us know. I think just letting her know that much will help." I had to agree.

"And Les," he stopped me before I could hang up. "You need to know it's real for her. This wasn't a girl who missed her friend. She knows what you were up against, even though she wouldn't talk about it, and she's messed up over you. I've missed the old Steph because the one that's here needs her husband back soon."

"Trust me," I promised him. "Her husband feels the same way."

We hung up without the need for a goodbye. It would have pissed Stephanie off, but I knew Bobby was good with it. I sat back in my chair and hoped he could watch over her until I was able to do it myself.

I kept replying the conversation with Stewart in my head. I guess I had a debriefing to look forward to and wondered who he would send. Maybe getting that out of the way would let me feel a sense of closure and whatever it was that was haunting my dreams would finally let go.

Ben came back over and asked if I was all done. "Yea, I think so, thanks." He looked at his watch and informed me it was time to stretch out again, but he had time to walk me through some exercises if I wanted something to do while I was in bed. Something told me this wasn't going to be my kind of exercise, but if it got me one step closer to Stephanie, then I was all for it.

An hour later I was struggling to keep my temper in check, realizing just how much work I had ahead of me. Blowing on a ball in a tube for respiratory exercise was pissing me off, and the stretches with my arms were producing more soreness than I thought it should considering the shape I had been in just a short month ago. Ben must have noticed because he spoke up, "A few days of this and we can start moving to something more challenging, but you need to get the soreness out and your muscles used to moving again before you can start stressing them."

I nodded that I understood but I didn't trust myself to talk and not say something rude. He was a nice guy and he didn't need my sarcasm right now.

Sometime after dinner Marcus came in and helped me with a version of a nighttime routine. Once I was settled back in bed, I asked if he was going to stay in all night.

"No, I'll check back. Dr. Walker wants me to let you fight it out tonight and see if I can tell what you're saying. But if I can't get anything, or if you are getting too worked up, then I'll call in the guys and we'll give you a shot, so you don't get hurt for nothing." He explained the plan before walking to the door.

"Thanks for doing this," I said before he exited the room.

He shrugged as though he were doing something simple instead of trying to make sense out of the crazy ramblings of a nut while he was sleeping. "I've been there, I want to help," he offered as he turned to leave.

The next morning I was awaked by Ben removing the restraints once more. "I take it I had a dream," I stated the obvious.

"Bad one too," Ben said without stopping his work. "Marcus said you got really agitated the longer he let it go, and by the time he'd gotten enough they damn near couldn't get you still long enough to get a needle in."

"Does that mean he could figure out what I was dreaming about?" I hoped.

"Don't know," Ben replied. "He was only supposed to tell Dr. Walker. It ain't none of my business."

We worked through my morning routine together and I was pleased to see clothes laid out on the bed when he brought me back from the bathroom. True, they were just baggie sweats and a t-shirt, but anything other than that damned gown would make me feel so much better. I put the shirt on first and then laughed out loud when Ben held the pants leg up against my cast, took a pair of surgical scissors from his pocket, and cut the leg off three fourths of the way up. I guess that answered my question about how we were going to get it over my cast. It was huge and with the screws and other metal brackets running around it, I new it wasn't going to be easy. I tried to ignore the socks he put on me with no skid tread on the bottom. At least they were black instead of a girly color. Besides, I definitely didn't want to fall, and there was no point in trying to do shoes since my foot was still pretty swollen.

After we were done he got me back in the wheelchair and I felt like a sibilance of a man once more. Dr. Walker walked in and I smiled at her standing there with a matching grin on her face. "Somebody looks human again," she commented to start our chat.

"I feel it too," I agreed. "So what did Marcus have to say about my ramblings last night? Are you ready to amend your opinion that I'm not crazy?"

"Yea," she teased back. "You aren't crazy, but I might be willing to certify you as nuts." She let me laugh at her shrink joke and then she sat down at the foot of my bed.

"I talked to Marcus this morning and he had some interesting things to share," she began, getting my full attention. "Most of what you were saying was hard to make out, but he got the impression that you were trying to protect someone from a bomb or that you protecting the person with the bomb."

"Why, what did I say?" I couldn't figure that out at all.

"You kept repeating something about not hurting the bomber," she answered, making me smile, then looking at me like I was crazy.

"Back home, all the guys call my wife Bomber, or Bombshell. I guess I was trying to protect her." That would explain why I was fighting so hard. If I thought Stephanie needed protecting, I'd push through any pain to keep her safe.

"You also mentioned Stewart, which I know was your handler," she prompted me with another piece of the puzzle.

I nodded. "I called him yesterday to see about being debriefed officially. He said a few things about Stephanie that I thought almost sounded like threats." I took a deep breath and then gave her a complete understatement, "I didn't like it."

Her face went completely blank, something I hadn't seen much of from her. "No," her hand went up to her neck and rubbed at the scar on there as though it was suddenly painful. "No, I wouldn't like that either."

"I can understand what I was saying last night, and I can see why I'd be upset about it, but that would only explain one night. I couldn't have had that same dream before yesterday because I just spoke to him and started worrying about her safety. What was I worked up over on previous nights?" It's like the more information I got, the more I was confused. Wasn't that the opposite of how this was supposed to work?

Dr. Walker stood up and started walking. She clasped her hands behind her back and took slow, measured steps back and forth, totally lost in her own world. Then her head snapped up and she asked, "Did you and Stephanie have sex after you got married?"

"Geez Doc, I didn't know you needed details like that," I replied, wondering what in the hell she was after. She gave me a piercing looking letting me know it was a serious question so I gave in and answered her, "Yes."

"Did you have luggage when you went for your marriage, or was it such a spur of the moment decision you didn't even think to pack for?" She followed up randomly.

"No, I asked her one night and we left the next afternoon. We had an overnight bag and the clothes we were married in." I told her, still at a loss.

"Did you have attendants? I mean who was your best man, or her maid of honor?" She kept pushing the wedding questions, making me more anxious with every new inquiry.

"No, we just wanted to keep it between us. I knew I wasn't coming back alive, and Steph was so against marriage that once she agreed to marry me, I didn't want to risk her backing out by including other people, so we left the next day and had a private ceremony with a justice of the peace. I took the marriage certificate with me to file it with the Army so she could get listed on my benefits, and I gave her the other paperwork to hold onto or file if she wanted. We had thirty days to register it in Trenton and for her to change her name if she wanted, so I left all that with her. I didn't want her to feel like she had to tell anyone in case I didn't make it back. She always said the thought of getting married again gave her the hives, and I figured the idea of being a young widow wouldn't sit any better with her. I didn't want to push it." I decided to give her more than she was asking for so that she might tell me where she was going with this.

"So, what you're saying is that you remember all the details of your wedding and that week before hand?" She asked smiling at me, as though she'd just tricked me in some clever way.

"I'll be damned, I guess I do," I admitted as images came flooding in…Steph in a beautiful summer dress that fell a few inches above her knee. Her hair was down but she'd curled it and tamed the mass of wild hair that was her trademark. I could see her smiling at me and holding my hand as we climbed the steps to the courthouse. She kissed me when he pronounced us man and wife, but once her lips touched mine I took over, trying to keep it appropriate for a wedding, but finding it hard to fight the yearning building up inside me.

Somehow we got back to the hotel and consummated our marriage…repeatedly. I took her out to dinner and we did some gambling, then we played a little pool, but it was really more foreplay than a game because we eventually abandoned the cues and went back up to our room.

There was such a sweetness to every image that crossed my mind that I completely believed Bobby yesterday when he said this was real to Stephanie. I had suggested we get married because I was leaving and not coming back. It was a way my death could provide for her and redeem it in some way. But I wanted her before my mission, and I was working every day to make her mine before this happened. We were happy together and packed a lot of living into a few days. Yea, I remembered it and the force of the emotion that accompanied the memories almost undid me in my wheelchair.

Dr. Walker knelt in front of me and put a hand on my arm, talking in a smooth quiet voice I'd not heard from her before. "It's alright Santos. Your body wants to remember, so don't fight it. These are good memories, the kind you want deep inside you, so they're going to be overwhelming. But don't worry about that, just let them come." She continued to assure me everything was alright as picture after picture came through my mind.

I remembered us lying on the pillows, talking deep into the night in my condo. She asked me questions and I answered them honestly, then she would answer them herself. Over the course of several nights we grew so close I felt as though she were the other part of me. I asked her to marry me and she didn't panic, a few tears fell from her blue eyes, and then she said yes. I tried to apologize for our courtship being so fast because of the timeline for my departure and she wouldn't let me, telling me instead that it happened over three years from the time I first met her at that redecorating job until that moment in bed.

In living color I saw myself laying Steph back on the bed and worshiping her body, screaming her name in pleasure as we came together. I remembered feeling so exhausted I couldn't move, yet having my body respond to a simple moan in her sleep. I remembered every detail of our wedding and the twenty four hour honeymoon. God help me, my wife was beautiful and I missed her.

I remembered the last night in DC before I got on that plane for Afghanistan and tearing apart my room in anger. I was furious that I had to leave her, knowing I wasn't coming back. I was consumed with guilt for letting her love me and then leaving her to deal with my death alone. I had taken the coward's way out by not telling anyone at RangeMan out of fear they would think I'd guilted her into marrying me, even though my proposal was born out of love alone. It was accepted out of love alone. And in the few moments while I destroyed my room, I grieved not having a lifetime to develop that feeling.

I had planned on calling Bobby before I left, but during the briefing before we departed I felt on edge, like something was off and I shut it down, not wanting anyone related to this mission to know what I left in Trenton. They all thought of me as a single ladies man with nothing to lose, and for some reason my gut was screaming at me to keep that impression alive. I had to shut down the single most wonderful thing that had ever happened to me in order to insure it stayed far enough away to be safe from whatever unnamed threat I was picking up.

When most of the memories finished passing over me, I was exhausted and I ached to see Stephanie. I wanted to hold her again and allow the reality that I wasn't dead and that we could build the life we allowed ourselves to describe as our dream, thinking at the time it could never happen.

Seeing I was coming back out of my head Dr. Walker asked, "You blocked those memories for a reason. It was a conscious decision to protect her. Why?"

"I don't know exactly. During the briefing with the guys on my team and the suits I got the feeling something was off. I tried to blow it off as just nerves over the sacrifice I was being asked to make, but down deep I felt the need to be sure none of the people in that room knew I had wife. I was afraid if they knew I had something to lose that it would be used against me."

"So you protected her the only way you knew how," she finished for me. "You blocked it out so that no one could get to what was most important to you."

I nodded that she was right. "How did you know the memories would come back?" I wondered.

"You've been worried about her safety since you shut down the memories. Only in your subconscious, where those memories were still alive, did your body recognize the threat to your wife and try to lash out to keep her safe. You've been fighting for her every night since you got back," she explained making perfect sense.

"What do I do?" I prayed she had an answer. Now that I'd remembered everything, I wasn't sure how long I could keep Stephanie at arm's length. I needed her with me. She calmed me in a way no one else could and I needed the peace only she could provide. I also needed to convince myself that she was unharmed. That no one had tried to hurt the one precious thing in my life.

"We've got a little more work to do, and then we're going to call your wife and invite her down. I think seeing her will do wonders for your recovery, and now that we've gotten to some of this shit, you might start sleeping better too." Dr. Walker encouraged me, standing up and moving back to the end of the bed.

And so we began again with the questions and answers, but this time they centered around my trip to DC trying to isolate the threat. I wasn't used to sharing information like the shrink was asking me to, but I knew this was the only way to protect Stephanie, and at this moment I knew I'd gladly walk through fire to keep her protected. A little discomfort answering questions was the least of what I'd do to get my wife back safely by my side.


	7. Visitors

_JE, thank you so much for creating these wonderful characters for us to have fun with on fanfic._

_Fredda, I don't have words for your gift of support and super proofing skills as the beta on this story._

_Amy (beancounter74), people seem to like Dr. Walker who is based on you in the story. It's a shame they don't all know the real person, because you rock (and I'm not just saying that because you send me stories to read either)._

**Chapter 7 – Visitors**

It had been a long day. I had my first real physical therapy session with a guy named Jack that seemed to think making me sweat was fun, but at least I wasn't just sitting on my ass letting my muscles all disappear. Dr. Walker had called him in to assess my condition and she overrode my surgeon's opinion that I needed to stay as inactive as possible for as long as possible. Jack was convinced it was the right time to begin therapy, so I relaxed that I wasn't in the middle of a war between doctor egos. It was just one more sign that Dr. Walker understood that treating a patient was about more than just her area of mental expertise. For me to move forward I had to be active, at least as active as my condition allowed.

I was in my chair considering hitting the buzzer to see if Ben would bring me some materials for a bath. The cast eliminated my ability to use the shower, but I was feeling grimy from sweating in PT. Before I could get any further in my ruminations, my door swung open and a young girl, maybe twenty three or four walked in with a very short skirt and a low cut, extra tight shirt that didn't quite touch the top of her skirt. Six months ago I would have considered this God's way of making up the last few weeks to me, but in light of the last few days I just wanted her out of my room.

"Mr. Santos, I'm here to give you a bath," she announced with a smile, letting me know that very few people ever turned down her offer of having her hands run all over their body.

As if I needed more evidence of how much I had changed recently, I heard my mouth saying words I never thought I'd hear, "It's Captain Santos, and I don't think I'll be in need of your services."

If anything my rejection only encouraged her. "Captain," she accepted my correction with a wink, "I hear you can't take a bath on your own, and I can make sure you are clean…all over."

"I don't think so," I replied, turning my chair so that I could see her better. She was a fine looking woman and everything I would have jumped for at one time.

This time she seemed to be more irritated and asked, "Why not?"

Before I could answer the sweetest sound in the world came into my room, "Because your services aren't needed here."

The mini-nurse turned and faced the voice that hadn't stepped in far enough for me to see them and dared to say, "I don't know who you are, but you can't just come in ordering people around. I work here and it's my job to give men their baths."

"No, it's your job to give the soldiers here a bath when they want one, and this particular officer has made it clear he doesn't want you touching him," the voice was getting irritated.

"If you don't mind, I need to hear that from him, not a visitor he doesn't know," mini-nurse bit out with no attempt at civility.

"Oh he knows me alright," the voice grew louder as it drew into my room.

"Who are you?" She asked attempting to block the entrance of the face I wanted to see more than anything in the world.

"She's my wife," I answered for her as the mini-nurse stepped back, allowing Stephanie Plum Santos to enter the room.

Our eyes met and neither of us moved. It was too good to be true that we were seeing each other after being so sure that we never would again.

"I didn't know you were married," the pushy nurse said from the doorway.

"Now you do," Stephanie replied taking a ragged breath and turning her head to look at the young girl standing to her right. "You can leave all the things for his bath. I'll make sure Captain Santos is very clean." When her face turned back to me the look in her eyes promised that every single spot would be receiving her full attention, some more than others.

And then it hit me. Six weeks after leaving Trenton, and after spending a month in the VA thinking my body from the waist down was shot to hell forever, I felt a stirring I didn't think I'd experience again. Stephanie was just standing there in a little summer dress and strappy sandals and my sweatpants were beginning to show the evidence of how my little officer was saluting the officer on deck.

I saw her eyes drop down taking in the full effect of me sitting in a wheelchair and then her lips curled into a smile before she said, "At ease soldier." I burst out laughing and the sponge bath girl disappeared in a huff.

Steph took a couple of small steps toward me and then paused to ask, "How hurt are you?"

I shrugged, "Bullet holes are healing nicely, and the leg is going to take a while, but it's getting better too."

"So if something jars you a little are you in extreme pain?" She asked, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth and holding it there nervously.

I shook my head no. "Standing is a bitch and walking isn't happening right now, but you can't hurt me by jostling me," I encouraged her, hoping that would ease her fears.

"Oh thank God," she said in a rush before taking three quick steps to close the distance between us, straddling my good leg and throwing her arms around my neck to pull herself as close to me as physically possible.

My arms flew up around her and the soreness from working out with Jack earlier was forgotten. I couldn't make my muscles relax now even if I wanted to. She felt so good, and I wanted nothing more than keep her exactly where she was forever.

Apparently she felt the same way because as the moments clicked past she wasn't relaxing her hold on me either. I felt her body shaking a little and knew she was crying. I would have pushed her back to dry her tears, but I knew my own face was wet and I didn't want to have her see that.

She found the strength to move before I did and pulled back only enough to rest her forehead on mine with her eyes closed. "You're really here," she whispered before asking, "This isn't a dream?"

"No dream," I assured her, praying I was right.

"You're alive," she summed up choking back a sob. "You promised to fight to get back to me, and you did it."

"Beautiful," I wanted to say something to let her know only death itself would have kept me from getting back to her, but my voice wouldn't work and for once in my life I was at a loss for words.

I might not know what to say, but with her face that close to mine I knew exactly what to do. I forced my arms to loosen so that I could place my hands on either side of her face. As soon as I touched her cheeks her eyes opened and I moved to touch her lips with mine. I intended it to be a gentle sweet kiss of reunion. I wanted to show her how much I treasured her as my wife and how adored she was, but the second her tongue slipped between her lips and touched mine, any possibility of being slow and gentle flew out the window.

My mouth opened and I hungrily tasted her, drawing her tongue into my mouth and forgetting myself completely in the warmth and sweetness I found in her.

It wasn't until a male voice cleared his throat that I found the ability to pull away to see Ben standing there with a big grin on his face. "Candy just came by my station and told me there was some woman in here bothering you keeping her from getting her work done. I told her you were not on her list of patients to bathe, but she seemed to think she knew better. I can see she was mistaken."

I had to laugh at the way he worded that last part. "Ben, this is my wife Stephanie. Steph this is Ben, he's been taking care of me since I got here."

Stephanie stood and walked over to Ben. He stuck his massive hand out with an air of uncertainty. He was a big guy and just based on appearances alone he was pretty scary looking, so I had to assume he was used to people not wanting to be around him. Of course he'd never met Steph and she didn't seem to be afraid of anyone based on their outward appearance. She looked at his hand and smiled before throwing her arms around his waist and hugging him. "Thank you for taking care of Les."

Clearly this was not a reaction Ben had ever gotten from a woman. It took him a minute to snap out of his shock and wrap his massive arms around her. "It was my pleasure Mrs. Santos."

Steph laughed and pulled back a little. "That's the first time anyone has said that to me. I used to hate being called Miss Plum, but Mrs. Santos has a nice ring to it."

"I agree," I interrupted her musings enough that she let go of Ben and walked back over to me.

"Since Candy is gone, I'm guessing you still need a bath," Ben said remembering why he came in to begin with.

I looked at Steph and smiled at how she ran off the little tramp throwing herself at me. "I do," I finally admitted as Steph's face began to turn a beautiful shade of pink.

"How about I take care of that with the help of Mrs. Santos?" He said looking at Stephanie instead of me.

"Only if you call me Stephanie or Steph. As much as I like the idea of being married to this guy, I'm too relaxed to go by anything other than my first name," she corrected him instantly, making a friend with my caregiver.

I moved over to the bed and followed all the necessary steps to transfer myself from my chair to the end of the bed and then waited for them to come over with the tub of soapy water. Ben suddenly looked really interested in the water he was carrying as he asked Steph to take off my shirt and we'd start from the top and work our way down.

She licked her lips and walked over taking the hem of my t-shirt in her hands and tugging it up over my head. I locked my eyes to hers and watched the emotions pour over her face when she got her first glimpse of the scars still bright red across my abs.

Ben started talking, getting her attention and describing the process of what he was doing to get me clean. When he got to the scars he handed the sponge to her and told her to take over while he pretended to need something from the bathroom. He'd been bathing me for weeks now and never once did he have to pick up something he'd 'forgotten' while leaving me alone on the bed.

Stephanie ran the soapy sponge across the top line where the surgeon went in to repair the damage from the bullet to my stomach. "Does it hurt?" She asked softly, almost as though she were afraid of the answer.

I shook my head no, that her touch wasn't painful, and then I decided to answer her question more fully. We'd started our relationship by being completely open with each other and I didn't think now was the time to start hiding stuff from her. "Touching it like that doesn't hurt, but trying to do sit ups or major shifts in the angle of my waist can be painful."

Her hands then moved to the side where the largest of the three lines were. "What was this one for?"

"Bullet sliced through my intestine. The damage got messy and it took a few tries to get it patched up and cleaned out." She kept working but tears were running down her cheeks. I put my hand on hers to get her attention. "I'm going to be okay," I told her, believing it myself for the first time since I woke up here.

Just then Ben came back over and laid a towel down on the bed along with a clean set of clothes and announced, "You can finish up the rest on your own I think. Call me if you need any help." Neither of us said anything in response and he left silently.

Once the door closed behind Ben I lifted my hand and touched her cheek. She shut her eyes and leaned into my touch briefly. Pausing only a moment to absorb my touch she opened her eyes and resumed her work bathing me with such gentle strokes it felt more like she was touching me for the purpose of showing her love than for getting me clean. When she was finished with my chest, back and arms, she put the clean t-shirt back over my head and then looked at my baggy sweatpants.

She repeated the steps of stripping me down, washing all the grime and dirt from my body while touching it softly with her fingers. Occasionally she would lean down and place a kiss on my skin. I never thought I'd see the day that being lavished with touches from a beautiful woman like this wouldn't make me want to throw her down on the bed, but the act of washing me was complete in and of itself. She was making love to me. The fact that her clothes were still intact was irrelevant.

Satisfied that I was clean, she slid a new pair of pants over my good leg and my cast before asking if there was room in that bed for both of us. I grinned and assured her if there wasn't we'd make room or get a bigger bed. She glanced at the clock and seeing that it was still early climbed into the bed leaning into the back then split her legs, nearly giving me a great view of what she wearing under that thin dress. She patted the bed telling me to scoot up and lean into her. Knowing that would probably be more comfortable than if she laid against me right now I did as she asked.

The moment I stopped moving, resting my body against hers and feeling her hands run through my hair I knew I'd made the right decision. The pain in my stomach stopped, my muscles relaxed, and I shut my eyes feeling myself truly relax for the first time since I left home.

"Talk to me," I prompted her, feeling a bit like a cat in a previous life as her hands plowed through my hair in such tender and loving ways.

She began to talk telling me about the last few skips she'd rounded up and how using the equipment in my condo's basement was beginning to help her get in better shape. I smiled at the idea of her working out in my mini-gym. It was nothing like what we had at RangeMan, but it was enough to give me a good workout if I needed one. Then the thought of taking her on the weight bench crept into my mind and my body began to respond to the image.

I felt her grip a handful of my hair, tugging on it slightly to get my attention and then say, "You can forget that Les, I don't know where your mind just went but your body isn't ready for that yet."

"I think it is, but we can wait a little if you want to," I teased back.

"It's not a matter of wanting to," she said with desire rich in her voice. "It's just that I think it would be best. Neither of us are great at keeping it slow and gentle and there's no telling what we might knock loose when we do that again."

I was disappointed, but had to admit she had a good point.

She jumped back into her stories and talked for the next forty-five minutes, regaling me with stories that made me admire her even more despite her embarrassment of what happened. She might not always get her skip in a graceful way but one had to admire the fact that she still always got them.

I asked her about her Grandmother and Ed and she began to giggle. "Grandma had me take her to a costume store so that she could get a candy striper outfit. She went to the rehab center where Ed was recuperating and offered to give him a sponge bath. Apparently the first one went well, so she showed up the second day and tried it again but her leg got stuck between the guard rail and the mattress and they had to call the nurse for assistance. Of course Ed had taken a Viagra to help their afternoon delight, so when they finally got Grandma off of him he was sporting a full blown erection. The nursing assistants tried to talk Grandma into leaving but Ed created such a fuss that he couldn't sleep the night in that condition that they gave up to let Grandma finish what she started."

I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear about Steph's Grandma finishing what she started but I was too invested now to stop listening. "Before the nurse left she gave Ed a pain reliever, claiming he was probably going to need it because of the strain on his hip. Once the door closed behind them Grandma climbed back up, took her teeth out and got to work again."

I shivered at the image of the teeth coming out but didn't interrupt. "Grandma said after five minutes of her best work on Ed she noticed he wasn't making any noise which was apparently unusual for him. She looked up and noticed his eyes were closed, so she asked him if he was imagining something kinky but he didn't respond. I guess the pain killer kicked in and Ed had fallen asleep. Grandma was furious that the nurse interfered with her plans for a good time and since he was still sporting a full blown stiffie, she took the Sharpie pen on the nightstand and wrote her name on his pecker along with the word 'goodbye'. Then she left. She claims she isn't going to go out with him again."

I smiled at that and we talked about how crazy her grandmother was. I knew she tried to sound embarrassed, but at heart she was proud of her. I think the rebel inside of Steph identified with the crazy version of the one living inside her grandmother.

After finishing her story we both grew quiet and I shut my eyes just letting the feeling of her body behind mine and her fingers plowing rows through my hair lull me into sleep.

I don't know how long I was out, but as I began to wake up I heard hushed voices have a heated discussion.

"I don't care, I'm not leaving," Stephanie was stubbornly arguing.

"I promised him I'd watch out for you, and I need to walk you to your hotel next door," Ben was trying to convince her to leave.

"I appreciate you being such a gentleman, but I don't need an escort because I'm not leaving tonight," she argued.

"But you can't stay here during the night while he's sleeping," Ben urged.

"Why not?" She asked him, not willing to back down without knowing why.

Ben hesitated and I knew he was debating what he could say without breaking the trust I had in him. Finally he said, "It isn't safe for you to be here during the night."

"Unless you can do better than that, I'm not convinced I have to go. I mean, am I really in that much danger in the middle of a VA hospital surrounded by soldiers, guarded at the front door, and staffed around the clock? How often is this room invaded that I need to be on guard?" She pushed back.

I could hear Ben letting out a long breath, unsure what to say in response. I decided to help him out and spoke up. "We aren't going to be invaded. The danger is from me."

"You aren't a danger to me," she said with such tenderness in her voice that I wished it were true. I was relaxed and comfortable for the first time since I left Trenton and I really didn't want her arms to move.

But this discussion needed to happen, so I leveled with her. "Since I got back I've been having dreams every night. I don't remember them the next morning, but they usually involve me trying to fight and I end up in restraints from the force of my struggle during the night. If you stay I might hurt you when I begin dreaming."

I couldn't see her face and didn't have the courage to move so that I could figure out what she was thinking.

Ben spoke up next, "My cousin is a little bigger than me and the Captain gave him a busted lip in his first week here. He's only gotten stronger since then."

"Les wouldn't hurt me," she repeated her earlier statement, digging in her heels to stay.

"I wouldn't mean to hurt you, Beautiful," I corrected. "But I can't guarantee that once my conscious mind lets go that I would know you were even here. I don't want you to leave, but I can't risk losing control with you in bed with me to pay the price for it."

Her hand started running through my hair once more and she pressed a kiss against my head. "I think this is ridiculous," she finally said. "But, I'll go because I want you to rest and I have a feeling you wouldn't if you knew I was in bed with you."

She was right about that. The fact that I fell asleep against her felt wonderful, but it wasn't something I could do again until I got to the bottom of these dreams.

She started to move but I grabbed her hand with mine and held it tightly, "You will be back tomorrow, right?" I tried to turn to see her face, so I could see the truth of whatever her answer would be.

"You can't keep me away Mr. Santos," she replied with her lips right against my ear.

Ben chose that moment to remind us he was still in the room. "I can stop by and pick you up on my way into work in the morning. I'm usually here before he wakes up, so you can have the honors if you want."

I saw the grin on her beautiful face as he dangled that carrot in front of her. "Can we pick up some breakfast too? I'm not convinced the cafeteria is going to have my favorites."

"Anything you want," Ben agreed, letting me know Steph had definitely made another convert.

I sat up despite the soreness in my stomach. I couldn't help but notice it was definitely better and I knew I was healing from the worst of my mission related injuries. Steph crawled out from behind me after Ben announced he'd be at the nurses' station whenever she was ready to leave.

I appreciated his ability to recognize that we needed a minute alone to say goodnight properly.

"I don't like this," Steph admitted as the door closed.

"You'll be back tomorrow morning and we'll have all day together," I tried to say in an upbeat voice despite everything inside of me screaming for her to stay anyway. I'd done without sleep before and would gladly fight the exhaustion for a chance to hold her in my arms through the night.

She looked away all of a sudden and I could tell some new thought had just struck her busy mind. She looked back at me and then down at my leg before asking, "Is it okay that I just showed up? I mean, you didn't actually tell me where you were and I had to get the information out of that office in DC where I sent your letters. If you'd rather me not be here then I can go back to Trenton. This probably wasn't part of your plan when we got married."

Oh shit, she thought I didn't want her. Despite having declared my love for her, I had been clear when we got married that she was basically signing on to be a widow, that her husband wouldn't be returning and that we wouldn't have a normal life ever because mine was ending. I pulled her back down face me. "Beautiful, please believe me when I tell you that seeing you walk in this room today was the first piece of joy I've had since I left Trenton. If I thought it was possible for you to stay without me hurting you, I'd be begging for you to sleep with me tonight. I don't want you to go and I'm going to be counting down the time until you get back, but I need to know that you're safe, and being here with me during the night isn't a good idea."

"Will you tell me about the dreams?" She asked hesitantly.

"I don't remember much about them, but I will be glad to share what I know tomorrow. You can even meet my shrink," I added knowing it would make her feel better to know I was trying to fix whatever was wrong with me.

She framed my face with her hands and leaned in to kiss me once more. I laid back and let her lead where our contact went. My senses were overwhelmed by her: the sweet scent of vanilla and cherries, the softness of her skin, the warmth of her mouth, and the light brush of her curls as they fell around my face. I was just about to give up and beg her to stay anyway, but the door opened once more and I knew Ben was waiting, so I let her pull back and raised an eyebrow at her once her eyes focused again.

She shook her head yes and said, "I'll definitely be back tomorrow." At least I knew the connection of our thoughts was still in tact. She called it ESP, but I knew the truth. It was our hearts filling in the words that our mouths couldn't find.

Steph gave me a quick peck on the lips and she stood up to say, "Goodnight, Les."

I waited until she was nearly at the door to reply, "Good Night Beautiful."

She paused and spun around to look at me to say, "You're alive; every night from here on out will be a good one."

Ben opened the door and I watched as Stephanie walked out, leaving me alone once more. But this time the solitude didn't hurt as it had so many nights before. My wife was going to be back tomorrow and I was more determined than ever to get to the bottom of my dreams so that I could have her by my side all night.

I had a new mission and failure wasn't an option.


	8. More Visitors

_The characters below belong to the genius of JE. Alas, I'm not clever enough to do this on my own._

_Fredda (Rangergirl1234) you are such a great beta. I can't imagine trying to post without you._

_Amy (beancounter74) Dr. Walker may be fiction, but I appreciate you allowing me to base her on the reality of you._

**Chapter 8 – More Visitors**

I was in my condo in the basement gym working out. Stephanie was with me, sitting on the floor watching me lift weights with an appreciative gleam in her eyes. I had already done everything I needed to, but I was covered in sweat and every so often Steph would say something that I was sure she didn't intend to be out loud letting me know how sexy she thought I was. Hell, I might rip a muscle before this workout was over just to get her as turned on as possible.

I laid back on the bench, ready to bench press another set when she said my name to get my attention. I hesitated with my hands on the bar and looked her way. "If I told you I wanted you to stay just like that so that I could come over there and climb on top of you, what would say?"

"I'd say bring it on," I told her with a wicked grin. On an off day Steph was a gorgeous woman, but when she was confident and aroused, she was sexy as hell and impossible to resist.

She sauntered over and straddled me to rub her wet core against my quickly growing erection. "Promise me I can come down here every morning and watch you work out," she instructed.

I would have promised her that she could fly to the moon and back if she would just keep moving her body against mine. "Anything you want, you can have," I assured her, "I promise."

She smiled and my entire chest warmed from the glow of her joy. Just as I reached up to stroke her cheek her expression changed to a blank stare of terror and then I heard a voice from behind us warn me, "Santos, you know better than to make promises you can't keep."

I sat up to put my body between Stephanie and the faceless voice behind me, but as I sat up Stephanie fell to the ground. I roared in rage that somehow he had managed to hurt her despite me being there. How had I allowed her to be hurt? I couldn't see the person who warned me about making promises, but I lunged in that direction with enough fury to kill him with my bare hands the second they made contact with his flesh.

I could hear someone saying my name trying to pull me back, but I was determined to finish what I started. Whoever this bastard was, he had killed my men on the mission and now he had hurt Stephanie too.

My ears were ringing and my heart was pumping. There was a burning in my leg and my stomach that just fueled the fire to destroy whatever was lurking in the darkness. Then a single sound cut through the madness of my mind and brought me back. Stephanie's panicked voice was calling out to me. I could not refuse her, so I allowed the threat to slip away in order to offer whatever comfort I could.

I went to her and knelt beside her on the floor. Her hands lifted to me and touched my face, running through my hair, reassuring me she was okay. I collapsed beside her, chanting her name over and over again, "Beautiful, Beautiful, Beautiful…" greedily taking comfort from her. As her hands touched me, a feeling of peace washed over me in their wake. She was healing me, making me whole in ways no one else ever could. She was mine, and my body needed her as much, if not more, than oxygen. My arms tightened around her trying to convince myself she was real.

Her voice came again, but this time it was strained. "Les…ah Lester, ease up honey. You're squeezing me too tightly." I forced my muscles to obey her command and was rewarded with her touching my hair again and then the soft touch of her lips on my jaw. "Come on Les, wake up for me and show everybody that you're okay. Open your eyes,"

What? What did she mean open my eyes? It was only then that I realized they were clamped tightly shut. I blinked them open and realized that we were not in the condo, but still in the VA. I was in my hospital bed and Stephanie was in my arms. Ben and Dr. Walker were standing over me, and Dr. Walker was holding a syringe that I was pretty sure contained a tranquilizer designed to knock me out for an extended period of time.

Steph pulled back slightly, but kept her hands on me. "See," she pulled everyone's attention to her. "I told you he was fine, he just needed to know he wasn't alone.

Ben took a few steps backward and literally collapsed in the chair near the window. He wiped a handkerchief over his bald head and hid his face briefly. Dr. Walker was white as a sheet, as though she'd just seen something horrible and had been unable to stop it. I looked down and saw Stephanie smiling at me with that joy-filled grin and I couldn't help but ask, "What's up with these two?"

Steph quickly looked at the people in the room with us and shrugged. "They were convinced you were going to hurt me, but I told them you were just having one of your dreams and that I knew exactly what to do."

What was she talking about? "I've had these dreams around you before?"

Stephanie turned bright red and I was so grateful for her inability to lie convincingly. She nodded yes instead of saying anything. Ben seemed to have found his legs once more and excused himself.

Dr. Walker took the chair that Ben vacated and carefully put a cap on the exposed hypodermic in her hand. "You alright, Doc?" I asked, thinking she looked a little shaky.

"I've seen some heavy shit in my career here, but the noise coming from your room carried to my office at the end of the hall. I knew you were having a dream, so I grabbed the meds and ran in with Ben, but your wife got in here first and refused to let me anywhere near you. I knew you'd be devastated if you hurt her, but she wouldn't give up and jumped on top of you. It only took her thirty seconds to get you completely calm. I've never seen someone talked down from a PTSD dream like that before. It was like even your unconscious mind recognized her and responded to her touch and voice." When Dr. Walker put it like that, I realized why she was so shaken. I could have seriously hurt Stephanie and she seemed to understand what that would have done to me.

I watched as her face changed and I knew her mind had grabbed a hold of something, so I helped Stephanie settle in the bed next to me and waited for the question that I knew was coming.

"You said he's had these dreams before?" Dr. Walker asked Stephanie.

It was nice to be off the hot seat, but I was worried about what her answer was going to be. Plus, I wanted to know why she'd never brought them up before.

"Yea, the first night he stayed at my place he slept on the couch. He fell asleep there after a movie marathon, and I covered him up and went to bed myself. A few hours later, I heard a horrible crash and came running out. Les had fallen off the couch onto the floor and was fighting like hell to get free of the afghan I'd put over his legs. I tried to wake him up, but he wasn't responding to my voice, so I got behind him and touched his face and he calmed down. Once he was relaxed, I kept talking until he woke up. After that night any time he fell asleep around me and had a dream, all I had to do was stroke him to make it stop."

"Does he have them every night you are together?" Dr. Walker asked for more information.

"No, maybe half the nights we spend together he would wake up during the night, but he was so easy to soothe back to sleep that I didn't think anything of it. I knew he would do the same thing for me if I had a dream, so I didn't see the point in making a big deal out of it," Steph explained.

"Weren't you worried for your safety?" Dr. Walker pushed. I wondered the same thing.

"My safety with Les?" Steph asked, sounding shocked at the question.

Dr. Walker smirked and replied, "This may surprise you, but most people consider him a strong, threatening man. He has been trained to kill in various ways and has served on some of the most dangerous missions our government could come up with. Very few people would classify someone with Captain Santos' skills as safe."

I smiled when Stephanie rolled her eyes. "Of course I know he's a dangerous man. Strong- lethal even- but not with me. I know that the only place I'm ever a hundred percent safe is when I'm with him. He'd move heaven and earth to protect me and even in his dreams that honor and commitment is there."

She humbled me. I refused to let her see me weaken to tears, but hearing her confidence in my ability to keep her safe, no matter what, was the greatest compliment she could pay me.

I needed to distract myself, so I looked between Dr. Walker and Stephanie and I wasn't sure who seemed to be thinking harder. They both appeared to be running through thoughts faster than they could fully process them, so I tried to be patient to see who would snap and speak first.

"Does he ever say anything when he's dreaming?" Dr. Walker broke the silence.

Her brow furrowed, as though she were thinking. I could feel her hesitancy to answer the question, so I rubbed her arms as an encouragement. "He usually says my name, sometimes it sounds like he's trying to fight someone away from me to keep me safe. I figured it was because we were together, so his mind was dwelling on protecting me." She paused briefly and then added, "I tend to get into loads of trouble, so all the guys are used to watching out for me. I guess I thought he had to do so much of it awake, that even in his dreams he had to guard me."

"It's not like that," I interrupted before Dr. Walker had a chance to. "You make it sound like a job, but I think of it as a privilege."

"Still, it's got to be hard to always have to watch out for me," Steph conceded.

"Why? I'm used to always watching my back, so including you in that is a joy, not a burden," I corrected.

"Hmmm, I never looked at it like that. Do you have your own crazies?" Steph asked, trying to find a correlation between her stalkers and my enemies.

"You could say that, but my crazies are a lot more dangerous, and if they ever found me they could do a lot more damage than your stalkers," I explained.

Steph had rolled to face me with both our heads on the pillow. Her hair was fanned out over the pillow and I flashed back to nights spent in my condo with her just like this. We'd get into bed and start talking. No subject was off limits, and we opened up to each other fully.

Dr. Walker interrupted by clearing her throat but before she could say anything the door to my room literally burst open and Bobby Brown ran in. I bolted up out of habit, and grimaced at the pain in my gut from the quick movement with my abs. Steph's hand went over mine rubbing the place that felt the most tender after I stopped moving.

"Shit Brown! You scared the hell out of me," I yelled at my long time friend.

Bobby bent over with his hands on his knees, as though he were struggling to catch his breath. "Your wife…" he was taking a few deep breaths to relax before attempting to talk again. "Disappeared during the night without a tracker or her RangeMan phone. If she hadn't been here…" He stood up once more and then approached the bed, bending down to place a kiss on Steph's cheek.

"Don't you ever disappear on me like that again," he warned her. "You scared the shit out of me. How was I supposed to explain to him that I lost you?"

Steph had the good sense to look embarrassed at the trouble she'd caused before apologizing, "I'm sorry Bobby, but I got a letter from Lester and it had a return address on it this time. When I looked it up in a search program I saw it was for a VA hospital, so I drove here yesterday to see if I could find out what was happening. I was just so focused on seeing Les again that I didn't think to call you first, but I didn't want to be followed because I wasn't sure if he wanted to see anybody yet."

Bobby smiled at her answer and then looked at me for the first time. "I told you this was real for her."

I laughed lightly, making Brown comment once more, "Geez man, you look like shit."

That made me laugh even harder. Steph leaned into me and the warmth of her body against mine eased the soreness that had been in my stomach from sitting up so quickly. "Thanks for sugar coating that so I don't get a complex," I replied as the door opened once more and the surgeon I'd seen only once before walked in. His face was buried in my chart, and it wasn't until he was at the foot of my bed that he looked up.

Initially he looked at me, then his eyes tracked to Steph and seemed to freeze there. I would have let his poor bedside manner slide, but the way he was looking at my wife was quickly starting to piss me off. "You need something, Doc?"

He blinked a few times and then returned his attention to me. "I saw you had begun physical therapy, despite my wishes that you remain inactive for a little longer to allow your body to heal more fully."

Dr. Walker stood up, adjusted her fatigues, and got within a couple of feet of the surgeon to say, "John, you know good and well there was no reason for him to stay in bed. He didn't have any symptoms of infection; he was losing muscle mass and mobility. Gradually beginning PT was the next logical move."

"Amy, I didn't realize you were suddenly the surgeon on call for this patient. Are you telling me you know better than I do what his physical needs are?" The tension level in the room had jacked up suddenly, and Steph looked to me to see if something should be done. I shook my head, wondering how this was about to play out.

"Are you telling me there is a legitimate reason you were withholding physical activity, other than the fact I asked you to set it up?" She challenged in return.

"I don't owe you an explanation Amy," the snooty doctor replied, basically admitting there was no reason to keep me from PT other than him being pissed that Dr. Walker suggested it.

"As a matter of fact you do. This is my patient; all his treatment plans run through me. I was trying to give you some professional space, but if your personal feelings are going to impact the level of care given, then you can find yourself another hospital," she threatened.

I could swear his face was getting red, "You can't threaten me."

"The hell I can't," she argued back, stepping slightly closer in a clear sign of aggression. "I outrank you; I have more seniority _and_ higher security clearance. I can command you no matter which direction you want to break this down. Now you can show the Captain here what a competent surgeon you are by clearing him to begin rehab, or you can get out and not bother to come back."

He stared at her with his eyes narrowing, as though he wanted to challenge her once again, but in the end he flipped the chart open and wrote something quickly then spoke. "Captain Santos, you will be starting physical therapy officially today with a colleague of mine named Jack."

"The same Jack I met with yesterday?" I asked Dr. Walker. She covered the smile that was threatening to break out when I asked the question and then nodded that it was the same person.

"If you weren't going to wait for me to sign off, why bother asking me to do it now?" The prick asked her.

"You want to do this here?" She asked him, not fully taking the bait, but making it clear she wasn't afraid to rise to the challenge if he insisted.

He glanced at Stephanie once more and I felt my fist balling up. Without another word, he turned and walked out.

The door shut behind him and there was an eerie silence that needed to be broken. Hoping to ease some of the tension, I quipped, "I know it's been kind of dull around here lately, but the amount of drama flowing through the room this morning is more than making up for it."

Dr. Walker was rubbing her hand over the scar on her neck absent mindedly. I looked at Bobby and he was watching her closely. I'd never seen that expression on his face before and couldn't figure out if it was more awe or disbelief. Steph was looking between my shrink and our friend and smiling. You could almost see her jumping to the same conclusion I had about the two of them.

"Yo, Brown," I said getting everyone's attention back on me. "This is my real doc. Dr. Walker, this is our company medic and my friend Bobby."

Her hand dropped from her neck as though it had been burned, and she nodded as a greeting. Bobby took a step toward her, stuck out his hand and said, "If you've been trying to treat this guy then you must be alright because he can be a stubborn pain in the ass."

She took his hand easily and replied, "True, but he grows on you."

They exchanged a few pleasantries before she turned back to me and asked, "Do you want to talk now, or do you want me to come back a little later?"

"You got time later?" I asked not wanting to inconvenience her, but not wanting to throw out Steph and Brown yet either.

She nodded and turned to head out. "I've got some meetings this morning, so it will have to be after lunch."

"Thanks," I said, realizing she had not only earned my trust but my admiration.

After she left, Bobby pulled the chair around and sat in it, putting his boots up on the bed. I waited forcing him to ask what I knew he wanted to know. Finally, he caved, "Tell me about your doctor. She seems pretty sharp."

It might have seemed like a harmless comment, but from Bobby that was quite the compliment. "What do you want to know?" I decided to play with him for a little bit first.

"What do you know?" He was playing it cool and disinterested.

Before I could answer, Ben walked in and Steph told him good morning. "Ben, my friend here is asking about Dr. Walker. What can you tell us about her?"

Ben looked at Bobby and seemed to be sizing him up. "She's good at what she does." The master of understatements didn't seem to want to give up much information this morning.

"What kind of doctor is she?" Bobby followed up, trying to get a little more from him, like her practice specialty.

Ben shrugged and replied, "A damn good one."

Bobby looked at me and raised an eyebrow as though he were asking if Ben was seriously this quiet. I decided to help him out a little and said, "Dr. Walker was in here when my surgeon came in. They started calling each other by their first names and got into a bit of a pissing match."

Ben didn't seem pleased about that. "She win?"

"You know it," I said with a smile.

"She alright?" He asked, letting me know whatever history was there between the opposing physicians must run deep.

"Distracted, but okay," I told him.

He was thoughtful for a minute before saying, "John was her husband's brother. They got bad blood at every level."

"_Was_ her husband's brother?" I asked unsure what he meant.

"Yea, he died a few year's back. John seemed to think it was her fault and never missed an opportunity to lay the blame on her. The fact that she was a smart woman and worked here only gave him more reasons to smart off," Ben told us.

"Why did he blame her for his brother's death?" I couldn't figure out what Ben was telling us.

Ben shrugged, "Don't know. I just know he died on some screwed up mission oversees, and the news of it almost killed her. She's good now, but she works too hard." He came over to the side of the bed and asked if I was ready to get up.

I let him help me get up and through my morning routine. Stephanie and Bobby stayed in the room and talked while I tried to assert a little more independence in shaving and washing my hair. If Stephanie was going to be running her hands through it, and God I hoped she was, then I wanted it to be as clean as possible for her. Satisfied I was ready to face the day, he led me back out and got me situated in the wheelchair, promising to return to check on me later.

As soon as Ben was gone Bobby turned to me and asked, "So tell me truth about you."

I ran through the injuries and the prognosis according to the dick of a doctor, and Dr. Walker's version that I should be moving around as much as possible. Bobby seemed to appreciate her version a lot more. He told me he planned on sticking around for a couple days, by which time he hoped I could be released into his care to come back to Trenton. As much as I wanted that to happen, I was worried about the dreams and wondered if I was ready to leave.

Bobby left, saying he was going to check in with my physical therapist and make some calls. Finally, Steph and I were alone. "Why don't you want to come home?"

I cringed, wondering how she knew to ask that question. I thought I'd covered up my worries pretty well.

"I want to come home," I assured her before leveling with her. "The dreams…" Hell this was harder than I thought. "Since I've been here I've had dreams every night, and I've gotten really violent and impossible to wake up. I'm worried that if I go home they might continue and that I might hurt you."

"You wouldn't hurt me," she stated confidently.

"I wouldn't want to hurt you," I agreed. "But what if I was too deep into my dream and I didn't know it was you? What if in the process of calming me down my fist hit your beautiful face? How could I live with that?"

"Then we'll stay here until you're ready," she stated as though it were an easy decision.

I wondered when that might be. I'd been here a couple of weeks spending plenty of one on one time with my shrink and it hadn't done a damn thing for the dreams yet. Based on how spooked Ben was this morning over the thought of me hurting Stephanie, I must be really worked up when I'm like that. Should I try to keep Steph away at night? Could I trust her confidence that she wasn't in any danger with me?

Before I got very far with that line of thought, Steph spoke up and mentioned me having something to eat in the cafeteria with her. I still wasn't back to normal with my food consumption, so it wasn't shocking that I hadn't thought of food. The surprising thing was that Steph had waited that long. I started to roll toward the door but stopped halfway across the room.

Steph froze next to me and waited to see what was wrong. "I'm sorry about all of this," I told her.

"Sorry for what?" She seemed completely lost.

"I'm broken Steph. When I asked you to marry me it was wishing we could have a healthy future together, but resigned to the probably that I'd not live past that mission. I never considered the burden of getting busted up and sent back to you." I knew she wasn't going to accept that, but it was honest version of how I felt and I wanted to let her know.

She spun around and straddled my good leg like she did yesterday. Her hands captured the side of my face, holding my attention completely. "You listen to me and you listen good, mister. You took me when I was a broken mess and you loved me back to wholeness. You put up with moping, fear, anger, and screaming fits at night when my dreams came around. Never once did you complain or let me get away with trying to pull away, and I intend to play this just as tough as you did. This is my chance to show you my love. Don't take this away from me. We've got a long future to be whole and well together, but right now we focus on getting you better one day at the time, one step at the time."

"That's damn good advice," Dr. Walker said from the doorway. When she came in, I had no idea. "I like her already," she added looking at Steph with a friendly smile.

I saw Steph's genuine smile light up her face and I realized in that moment these two women had bonded. I knew we needed Dr. Walker to help me get over whatever hurdle was haunting my dreams, but something in the way they were looking at me told me that Dr. Walker could use a little of our help too.


	9. Sturdy

_JE created the wonderful characters below. _

_Fredda (Rangergirl1234) I can't thank you enough for your hard work as the beta on this story._

_Amy (beancounter74) thank you for being the inspiration for Dr. Amy Walker. Hopefully she'll do you justice._

**Chapter 9 - Sturdy**

"Damn Bomber, when did you learn how to play poker?" Bobby asked after losing over twenty bucks to my wife.

She grinned an evil smile but didn't answer as she pulled her winnings from the middle of the bed and put them in her growing pile. "Do you want to play again or are you ready to call it a night?"

"I'm beat, plus I'm broke. I'm calling it a night," Bobby admitted. "You want me to give you two a minute and we can walk to the hotel together?"

My face dropped at the thought of my best friend walking with Stephanie anywhere without me. Then I looked at her face and I knew exactly what she was thinking.

"I think I'm going to hang out here for a little while longer," she told him, holding my eyes with hers.

I grabbed her hand, grateful that she wanted to be with me, but not wanting her to see me at my worst yet either. I was torn between wanting to sleep with her warm body pressed next to mine and wanting her as far away as possible to keep me from hurting her during the night.

Bobby must have picked up on my internal debate. "Bomber, the doctors here aren't going to let you sleep with him, and if you are in a chair then he won't rest because he'll be worried about you. Let's go back to the hotel, and I'll bring you back over first thing in the morning."

When he mentioned that her being here would keep me from sleeping, she seemed to cave a little. "Just give us a minute," I told him letting her move to curl up next to my chest.

"Later, man," Brown said heading out to wait in the hall.

"Don't make me go," she whispered, letting me know if I asked her to leave, she would.

"Beautiful, I can't stand the thought of hurting you," I said while moving my hands up and down her back.

Before she could argue that I wouldn't hurt her, the door opened and Marcus came in. Steph turned her head to see who had interrupted us and smiled at the large man in front of us. "You look like Ben," she said with a smile.

Marcus was shocked, clearly not expecting that as an opening line. I got the feeling most women tended to ignore him because of his size and quiet demeanor. "Cousins," he replied to answer her unasked question.

"I'm Stephanie," she said moving more to better face him. "Thank you for taking care of Les since he's been here."

"S'Alright," he replied while looking down, as though he were a pre-pubescent boy, standing in front of his first crush.

"My husband seems to think it's too dangerous for me to stay with him tonight, but I'm trying to convince him that it's okay," she said carefully watching his face.

Marcus' eye nearly bugged out of his head. "No ma'am. That's not a good idea."

"Because of the dreams?" She asked.

Marcus nodded. "He wouldn't mean to hurt you, and…" he paused and winced as though answering her were physically painful. "And the guilt over something like that does hard things to a man."

Steph looked at him and Marcus focused a smudge on the wall just over my head. Steph stood up, put her hand on Marcus arm, making him jump at the contact and said, "She would have understood."

Then she turned back to me and placed the sweetest kiss on my lips, "I'll be back first thing in the morning, and you aren't going to throw me out again." With that I wished her a goodnight and watched her sexy hips swing as she walked out the door.

We were both silent for a period of time before Marcus spoke, "That's one hell of a woman." He did a few checks and then walked to the door before turning around with a slight smile on his face and said, "Any chance she'll get tired of you?"

"Did you just make a joke?" I asked him, watching the hint of a smile blossom on his face.

"Good night Captain," he replied, refusing to answer my question.

When I finally went to sleep, it was to dreams of Stephanie. As I woke up it was to dreams of her as well but they were of a drastically different nature.

I drifted off to dreamland with erotic thoughts involving her, Victoria's Secret, and the hood of my car. When I awoke the image burned into my brain was of her covered in blood, on the ground in front of the VA hospital. She'd tried to walk over from the hotel and was gunned down by someone. I watched it happen, but in my wheelchair I couldn't get to her in time to stop it. I pulled myself out of my chair onto the cold hard asphalt beside her to cradle her limp form in my arms, screaming out at the injustice of her life being ended so suddenly and cruelly. As I cried out to God to save her, knowing it was a lost cost, her hand began to move. Even covered in blood it soothed me as she ran it through my hair and across my cheek.

"It's alright Les, I'm here and I'm okay. I'm not going anywhere," she continued to chant her reassurances to me until I started to slip off to sleep once more, clinging to her, refusing to let my dreams take her from me.

The next time I awoke, it was slowly to the sound of hushed voices. I could feel someone in my arms and I didn't need to open my eyes to know Stephanie was in my bed with me. How she got there in my arms I wasn't sure. I wasn't complaining because the feel of her body molded into mine was perfect.

I listened and could hear Bobby and Dr. Walker talking. He was sharing a story from one of our missions where we had gotten split off from the rest of the group is some Central American jungle. It was hot as hell, buggy, and wet. Both of us were tired and we each had an injury, but we were together and knowing our unique skills weighted the deck in our favor of getting out. He jumped into the story, including the part where we stumbled into a shit hole of a town and into a bar at sun-down. We had no money, no communication devices, and no supplies, but there was a woman at the bar. She wasn't beautiful, but she wasn't without some merits either. Bobby explained that I walked up to her and in my exhausted state my internal editor wasn't working, so I blurted out in slightly blurred Spanish, "We are broke, injured, and starving. If you will give us food and something to drink we will offer you the only thing we have to give." The girl looked at me clearly intrigued by the offer and asked what that was. "Our bodies," I explained.

She went into the kitchen and came out with water, plates of food, and bottles of beer. We jumped on the nourishment and then took her up on the offer of her bathroom to clean up and tend to our wounds. After we were feeling human once again, I turned to thank her, but her expression changed as she reminded me that she expected payment for her hospitality. By now my vision was clear enough to see this was defiantly not the world's prettiest woman, but I was grateful to her, so I manned up and asked if she had a room she wanted to use. Her face changed and she looked to Bobby. I remember feeling both relieved and insulted that she seemed to be interested in him instead of me.

I looked at Brown who was turning green at the idea of having to pay for the food and drink with sex, but he walked over to stand beside me and looked at her silently. Then she grinned and said, "Ahora dos veses."

Bobby's Spanish was still a little rusty, but I understood her perfectly. She had instructed the two of us to kiss each other. I looked at Brown and told him what she wanted and he actually seemed to relax. I knew he wasn't gay, so I raised an eyebrow to ask why he seemed so relieved to be kissing me instead of her. "You I know are clean and not going to tell a soul. Her, I'm not so sure about."

Dr. Walker laughed a soft, sweet sound and asked, "So did you?"

"Kiss him?" Brown asked to clarify.

"Yes. Did you two get it on to repay her for her kindness?" She pushed for the details.

"Yea, I kissed him. When I pulled back and looked at her she had tears in her eyes and took a few shaky steps away from us. Apparently, her husband left her for another man in the village and she always wondered what the attraction was, and after seeing the two of us together she was even more confused. I guess we didn't make the best looking couple after all," Bobby told her honestly.

At that confession Dr. Walker actually howled. I realized then that while she had laughed at some of the things I'd said during our conversations, that I'd never heard her really crack up. She seemed to be enjoying herself with my buddy, so I continued to hold Stephanie in my own little heaven, listening to my friend happily chat up the doctor.

When they quit laughing Bobby's voice got more serious and asked, "How's my man doing?"

"He's getting better day by day. Jack is pleased with his PT progress, and I believe I could get him discharged in another day or two if you have the facilities to handle his rehab. They are going to switch out his cast today for a different one that he can walk with. The exterior stabilization screws are coming out, and then he can start working on getting some mobility back." After a brief pause she added, "The injuries he had should have been fatal. I figured if he fought through the hell of the pain and the odds so heavily stacked against him that whatever was pulling him to stay alive must have been one hell of an incentive. Seeing those two together tells me everything I need to know." She said softly.

Bobby agreed with her before saying, "I knew he loved her. I knew it about six months ago when we worked a distraction with Bomber."

Dr. Walker interrupted to ask what a distraction was. Bobby explained, "It's when we need to round up a dangerous skip who has been spotted in a public place. We can't just go in there guns at the ready to pull him out because of the risk to civilians is too great. So Steph goes in dressed to kill, 'distracts' the guy enough to get him to follow her out, and then we nab them in the parking lot."

"That makes sense. It seems like a clean way to do it," Dr. Walker commented.

"Usually it is, but that night the skip had seemed to be cooperating and had agreed to take her out to the parking lot. Just before they exited, we heard Steph whimper through the wire along with the unmistakable sound of somebody being punched. Lester practically took the door of the hinges to get inside and find out what was happening. When we rounded the corner the skip had pushed her into a secluded corner and had his fist reared back to hit her again. Les grabbed his arm and began to show him what he thought of the way he'd been treating our girl. It took three of us to pull Les off the skip, and he was in such bad shape that I had to patch him up before we could haul his sorry ass to the station."

"After Steph left to go home, Les and I walked up to the bar and I could feel the tension still coming off of him. Usually when he was wound up tight he would find some girl and hook up for the night to get rid of some of the aggression in a more appropriate way. We each had a couple of beers and the women seemed to be drawn to his pissed off attitude. I don't think I'd ever seen so many people throw themselves at the guy." I remembered that night perfectly.

"Finally I got sick of watching him shoot them down and asked if was looking for something in particular. He looked me in the eye and said, 'I'm not looking at all. I know what I want, I just can't have it.' I knew then he was talking about Bomber. From that night on, I never saw him give another woman the time of day. It might not seem like that big a deal, but Santos had been systematically sleeping his way through the female population, and to shut it off so abruptly let me know something serious had happened." I didn't realize it had been so obvious, but thinking back on it now, I guess I should have known better. It would have been weird for me to suddenly quit chasing skirts.

"How long after that was it before these two got together?" Dr. Walker asked, still trying to piece together my puzzle.

"Don't know," Bobby admitted. "I didn't realize they were together officially until we got the notification paperwork from DC, alerting us the next of kin was his wife, Stephanie Plum Santos. About three months after the distraction, Steph went through a rough patch and Les was by her side. He called her, stopped by her place to check on her, and forced her to keep going. I think something happened in there somewhere and they started shifting from just friends to more, but when they jumped into marriage or a real relationship, I have no idea."

There was silence for a few minutes before Brown added, "Shame really. Seeing them together now is great, and I would have liked to have seen it happen."

"Why did they hide it?" She wondered, making me question the same thing. Why did we keep it secret?

"No clue. She had a complicated relationship with our boss, who is also Lester's cousin. But I don't think it ever turned into anything real. I think Les might have kept it quiet to protect her from any gossip from the guys at the office and to protect them both from the boss' temper if he found out and didn't like. The mission probably rushed things up a bit 'cause he thought he was out of time." Bobby speculated.

"He _was_ out of time," Dr. Walked clarified. "I read his orders; only an idiot would have missed the sub-text which was this soldier wasn't to make it back alive. Do you know anybody that would think of Lester as a threat if he were no longer under the control of orders from a CO?"

Bobby let out a long breath. "We've all got our enemies, so there are plenty of people that would be relieved to think of Lester not making it back. But if you're asking about people within the government, I can't think of any. They weren't happy when he announced a few months back that he wasn't going to resign, but he'd always done what was asked of him, so there was no threat there that I know of."

After a minute to reconsider he added, "But Les was always known as a ladies man. It's possible he pissed off somebody somewhere and never knew about it. I mean, if somebody slept with my sister and left during the night I'd be pissed as hell about it."

"Do you have a sister?" Dr. Walker asked. I struggled to keep my blank face in place, realizing she was after personal information on my friend and not me.

"No," Bobby leveled with her. "I've got these two, that's family enough."

"So you never had a thing for Stephanie?" She pushed a little more.

"No," Bobby replied smoothly, letting me know it was the truth. "I mean, I love her. She's fantastic, and one hell of a great woman, but she isn't my kind of woman?"

"And what is your kind of woman?" Dr. Walker questioned.

The silence was almost deafening as I tried to be sure I heard his response. Finally, he started talking, the truth just pouring out of him, "Somebody that understands me and the balance I need to both bring healing to those who are hurt, and pain to those who deserve it. I need somebody that doesn't freak out over the idea of a gun being in every room of my home and on several different places of my body all the time. I need somebody that understands how to enjoy good food, but who also enjoys a good workout. They've got to be strong and tough but not afraid to be tender and soft when it's just us. I want somebody strong enough to protect themselves when it's necessary yet feminine enough to let me do it when I'm around. And finally…" there was a long pause and I tightened up, knowing what he was about to say and wishing he'd keep his big trap shut so he didn't scare away my shrink. "My kind of woman is just that – a woman. Someone that I can feel comfortable being around without worrying that I'm going to break her. I need her to be…well…sturdy."

Oh shit. He basically just said he wants his ideal woman to be an ox. _Sturdy_? Who the hell describes a woman as sturdy? I mean, I can see why he'd struggle to say he doesn't really like skinny women, but there so many better ways to put it than that.

I heard Dr. Walker clear her throat and repeat, "Sturdy?"

"I don't think that came out the way it should have," Bobby replied.

"I think it came out just fine. I don't ever remember getting such a thorough and obviously well thought out answer before to that question," she replied before repeating the word, "Sturdy," once more.

"I have thought about it. My life is a little unorthodox because I'm a medic and a soldier, and most women are only attracted to one side or the other, never both. I've had plenty of nights to dream up what it would be like to find someone who could handle both sides of personality without trying to rid me of one or the other," he offered as an explanation.

"You just need to find somebody who has been through the same thing," she replied directly.

Bobby let out a sound that was half laugh, half disbelief and asked, "Right. Any ideas where I could find someone like that?"

Before she could respond, I heard the door open once more and Ben announce that Dr. Walker had a phone call.

"Who is it?" She asked, not willing to be interrupted for just anybody.

"Herbert Stewart," Ben replied, making my eyes snap open at the name of my handler in DC being announced.

"Son of a bitch," she whispered. My eyes shot open needing to see what was going on. Bobby jumped up when Dr. Walker reacted that way, watching her carefully as though he needed a clue about what was going on that had upset her.

She took a couple of laps around the empty part of the room and then shook her head to clear it. "I'm sorry to leave so abruptly. I'll be back later but there is something I have to deal with regarding Mr. Stewart."

"Make sure you tell him I'm still breathing," I said in a gravely voice. I could feel a pure hatred for that man even though he was no where near me.

"Oh I intend to tell him a good many things about you Santos," Dr. Walker assured me before walking out.

When the door bounced closed Bobby looked at me and smiled, "That is one hell of a woman."

It was then that Stephanie decided to announce she was awake too by saying, "Yea, and she's - sturdy."

My friend has dark skin and a tough disposition, but that single phrase made his cheeks darken as he sat down hard in his chair once more. "I blew it with that, didn't I?"

Stephanie giggled. "I thought it was kind of cute, but in the future, no woman wants to be compared to draft horse."

"I was thinking more like an ox," I commented, making Stephanie laugh even more.

"Both of you can bite me," Bobby retorted in a huff. "I'm going to find your physical therapist and suggest some stretches that will hurt."

He stormed out of the room, but I could tell he wasn't as angry as he was pretending to be. That man liked my shrink, and the idea of it made me happy.

Having every one out of my room allowed me to turn my attention to the woman still in my arms. I pulled back a little and said, "I don't remember going to bed with a teddy bear."

She blushed slightly and took a slow deep breath as I appreciated the blush on her face. "I couldn't sleep at the hotel, so I snuck back over about two hours after I left and sat in the chair in the corner. But you started to dream, so I climbed in bed to calm you down. You were screaming my name, so I talked to you and you began to settle down, holding me really tightly to you. Once you went back to sleep you didn't relax your grip on me, so I stretched out and slept with you. I didn't wake up until I heard Bobby tell Amy about your slash experience."

I growled slightly at her description of the kiss Bobby and shared in that hole in the wall bar. "That's not a kiss I care to remember," I told her looking at her lips.

Her tongue came out slowly, methodically, and brushed over her lips before she spoke. "Are there ones that you want to remember?"

"Definitely," I told her thinking back to the one at our wedding and touching her face with my fingertips to assure myself that she was real.

Steph's hand moved up and rested on mine while holding my hand to her face. Slowly she moved in and placed her velvet lips against mine. My mouth opened, trying to draw her warmth into me. She tasted sweet and I wasn't sure if it was from something she'd eaten or if that was her natural flavor. As I suckled her tongue into my mouth, I began to seriously reconsider my stance that I didn't have much of a sweet tooth.

I could feel Stephanie pushing forward, so I relaxed and let her roll me onto my back. She was careful to keep any weight off my stomach, but her chest was pressed against my side and the dual hungers of wanting to continue exploring her mouth and wanting to draw on one of her perfect breasts instead was confusing me. As we kissed my mind was awash with images of the two of us making out in the bed of my condo after I proposed to her. I remembered her trying to climb on top of me to move it to more than just lip action and me telling her I wanted to wait just one more night so that our first time would be as husband and wife. Who would ever believe that Lester Santos turned down sex in order to wait until he was married?

I was so lost in the sensation of her mouth that Bobby was able to get the slip on us both and announce, "I came back to see if you needed any help getting up, but I see your wife's already taken care of that for you."

I pulled back only enough to talk in order to say, "Get the hell out of here Brown."

He had the audacity to reply with a laugh, "I would but Jack wants you downstairs in ten minutes, and I'm sitting in on your session so that I can continue the work back home. You're going to have to stop for a little while, man."

Stephanie found the whole thing amusing as I buried my face in her hair, drawing deep breaths trying to get my body under control. She offered me the motivation I needed to begin the day when she whispered, "You may as well get up. He's obviously not going to leave, and maybe after PT you'll feel a little more limber and I can show you the surprise I brought for you."

I pulled back and asked, "What surprise?" hoping for a mention of something that came in a pink bag from the mall.

She pulled herself up then bent back over the bed to tease my ear with the warmth of her breath as she spoke. "Grandma Mazur gave me a book, and I think there are some positions in there that will work in this bed even with the cast and tender abs."

She stood back up and turned to leave. "I'm going in search of doughnuts and will be back soon."

Bobby watched her leave and looked at me and narrowed his eye. "Brother, I don't even want to know what she said. You look like all the blood just drained from your face."

I looked at the majorly obvious tent in the bed between my legs and smiled. Yea, the blood definitely wasn't in my face.


	10. Promises

_JE gets the credit for the wonderful characters below._

_Fredda (Rangergirl1234) you are the best! Thank you for all the time you put in as the beta on this story._

_Amy (beancounter74) I hope the fiction version of you is as much fun for you to read as it is for me to write._

**Chapter 10 – Promises**

I rolled into Dr. Walker's office and it hit me that I'd never had a session with her in here. We'd always done our talking in my area or the cafeteria, like she was trying to meet me on my level and not make me uncomfortable with the leather couch running along the wall of her office. There were some fancy diplomas on the wall and a lot of pictures on the book shelf.

On the top of the shelf was a model of a mustang in a glass case to protect it. I had to do a double take because it was as if she had a replica of the car Bobby drove on his days off. It was a 2005 Mustang GT that had been sweetened up with a royal blue paint job and two white parallel stripes running from the hood to the spoiler in the back. The doors were rigged to swing up instead of out like a European sports car, and the rims were spiked chrome. It was a beautiful car and I wondered how in the hell she had gotten a model of what I thought was an original car that only Bobby owned. I remembered the amount of time he spent at the shop and the dealer getting it tricked just the way he wanted it. If Brown saw this, he would flip.

Since I'd gotten here first and wasn't sure how long I'd need to wait on her, I made myself at home and started looking at the framed snapshots. The first one was of two guys, one of which was my surgeon, the other looked a few years younger, but was much better looking. Still there was enough of a family resemblance there that I guessed it was his brother. I remembered Ben mentioning Dr. Walker had been married to the surgeon's brother, so I guessed that was her husband.

The picture next to that one was of Dr. Walker and the brother from the previous snapshot. She was sitting between his legs and his arms were wrapped around her tightly. There was no doubt in my mind they were majorly in love. The only other place I'd seen an expression like the one he was sporting was on my own face this morning while I was shaving and thinking about Stephanie.

There were a few other pictures of her and the mystery guy, all very happy. Some were of them hiking, one had her graduating from medical school with him looking every bit the proud spouse. My favorite was the one of them in fatigues embracing just about to kiss. His hand was on the small of her back, drawing her close to him and her hand was on his heart. There was a duffle bag behind each of them, as though they were both being deployed but not to the same place. You would think it would be heartbreaking to know you were being separated, but it was almost as though they couldn't help themselves that close together and their pure love for each other was spilling out despite their sadness.

As I put it down a voice came from the doorway, "That's Victor." She walked over and stood behind me looking at the picture. "He was the greatest soldier, friend, and man I've ever known." Her voice was totally unlike anything I'd heard from her. She was broken thinking about him. I felt like I'd caused her to revisit a place she didn't want to be, so I felt the need to break the mood that hung around us like a pall on a casket.

"I'm hurt, really I am. I thought I was the greatest man you'd ever known," I teased at her, getting exactly the reaction I wanted when a laugh escaped from her mouth, giving me a chance to sit the photo down unnoticed.

She sat on the couch, so I rolled over where she was and waited. "How was PT?" She asked, taking the focus off of her. I bet she had a lot of practice with that little maneuver.

"Cool," I point to my leg. "I got a new cast today, and I'm cleared to walk and shower with it, so I'm happy."

She whistled at the plain white fiberglass cast and joked, "I would have figured you for something a little flashier - maybe with pinstripes."

"I'm a married man now Doc, I can't draw too much attention to myself or the ladies won't be able to leave me alone," I couldn't resist replying.

"Something tells me your wife is perfectly capable of making the ladies leave you alone," she replied with a sly smile.

I couldn't help the goofy grin that came on my face. Lester Santos, ladies man and heartbreaker, had settled down and was thrilled with the idea that no females would be approaching him in the future. The idea of Steph getting jealous was more than a little appealing. No, it was damn sexy because it would mean that she wanted me. And I liked that idea…a lot.

"I had an interesting call with your handler," she blurted out, and I knew the hard stuff was just warming up.

"Stewart can be interesting when he wants to be," I replied not bothering to hide my distaste for the suit in DC.

"If you don't mind me saying this, he was more than a little put out that you're alive," she said, not surprising me one bit.

"He'll get over it," I managed to grit out between my clenched teeth as I remembered his words about Stephanie.

She was silent for a few minutes until my attention came back and I looked at her. "He has ordered me to clear you and get you released from the hospital ASAP. He will have someone here within the hour to do your debriefing, and then in his words you are to be sent home on the first available transport to Jersey."

My eyes bugged out briefly before I got it under control. I pulled my blank face back out of hiding and clamped it down tightly. So that's how Stewart wanted to play it? I wouldn't stay and participate in the black ops he ran indefinitely, so he didn't want me pulling any more of his resources.

"Is this my mental health certification interview?" I asked, assuming she was just a DC puppet that would have no choice but to release me.

She jumped up from the sofa and walked over the book shelf lined with photos. With her back to me she said, "Despite what Stewart would like to believe, he doesn't control me. I don't report to him, and I have no intention of throwing you out of the VA. The problem is you've made enough progress that you _could_ be released." I noticed her hand moved back to her scar, and as she spoke she seemed to be touching it absentmindedly.

"If I am well enough to be released, I don't think it would be considered throwing me out," I clarified sensing there was an internal debate going on.

"I'm at a bit of a loss about what to do," she admitted with her voicing matching her words exactly. "Every possible alarm inside me is going off that you shouldn't leave this hospital yet. I feel that you are in a shit pile of danger, but I have no concrete evidence of it. And even if it's true, what difference does geography make? If Stewart or someone in DC wants you six feet under, there isn't a whole hell of a lot you can do about it."

"So you think I should walk out of here, holding a white flag, just giving myself up to them?" I was trying not to get pissed at the suggestion this was hopeless.

She spun around with her jaw set when she replied, "No. I expect you to let me keep you here under whatever means I can, and we will work together to figure out what the hell is going on and take out the threat. The last thing I'd ever suggest is an easy surrender."

I looked at her for a moment before asking, "And why is that?"

He hand went back to the scar on her neck and her voice softened slightly. "Because surrender still brings death, and if you're going to go out it may as well be in a blaze of glory."

I wasn't sure I liked the final chapter she was suggesting, but I had to admire the hell out of her take on the overarching plot to get there. "What do we need to do?"

"I think you're looking a little warm," she said cryptically.

I had no clue what she meant, but I decided to play along. "It is stuffy in here."

She walked over and put her hand on my perfectly normal forehead and then winced, "And you've got a fever too. I'm guessing in our rush to get you up and moving around you must have gotten an infection somewhere. I'll call John and ask him to prescribe an antibiotic series for the next twenty-four hours, and then you'll need an additional twenty-four hour observation period at a minimum in order to assess your stability for release."

She was going to lie on my medical record in order to screw with Stewart. I wondered if that kind of dishonesty was hard for her to stomach. This was the kind of thing that could cost her the medical license hanging over her desk.

Before I could ask about it, she handed me a bottle of water and a single caplet which she told me was Tylenol. We both knew it was unnecessary, but such a small dosage wasn't going to hurt me either, so I tossed it back as she continued to talk. "I'll give you a fever reducer and make the notation in your chart before calling your surgeon. When the gentleman from Washington arrives for your debrief, I'll be sure to be available to monitor your symptoms."

She didn't even know me and she was putting herself in harm's way to protect me. The only other people that had done that to this degree were currently in my room, shooting the shit, oblivious to how screwed I was at the moment. "Why are you doing this?" I blurted out.

"Because I didn't do it once, and it will haunt me until the day I die." She replied turning her back to me once more.

While I would have loved to have known what she meant, I could tell this was one of the situations that I shouldn't ask about. If she wanted to tell me, she would. Otherwise, I truly didn't need to know.

Her phone buzzed before I could come up with anything else to say and the voice that spoke over the intercom was announcing that a gentleman was here to do a debriefing for me. At least the paper pusher was prompt.

We waited in her office in tense silence until a knock sounded at the door. I held up my finger and Dr. Walker called out, "One moment," then looked at me.

"I need a phone," she glanced at the one on her desk and I picked up the handset and dialed Bobby's number.

"Brown," came his voice after the second ring.

"I need you and Steph to go to the cafeteria and stay in an area with as many people surrounding you as possible," I ordered with no attempt at lessening the panic I suddenly felt welling up within me.

"Understood," he replied before asking, "I've got some extra gear in my bag in your closet. Do I need that?"

It was a subtle question, and I knew exactly what he was getting at. "You need everything you've got, and even if she fights it, you need to dress her too."

"I will take care of Stephanie," Bobby promised with his voice tight. There was a brief pause before he added, "With my life I'll protect what's important to you."

I knew he would do it. He would protect her to the end if it came down to it. "I'll give you some details when I've got 'em, man, but thanks."

We hung up and I turned to see my shrink. I had trouble processing what I was seeing. Under her diploma from medical school she was standing holding her service issued Glock in her hand, checking the action before putting it back in the holster at her hip. When she bent over and did the same thing with a smaller berretta at her ankle I had to ask, "What happened to 'first do no harm' from the Hippocratic Oath?"

That was when she gave me an icy smile and replied, "That only applies to my patients, and I have no patience for this kind of shit. I won't attack him, but I sure as hell won't sit back and let him hurt what is mine to protect either."

"Damn Doc, you are one tough cookie," I blurted out without thinking.

She seemed to like that and laughed, "Let's just say life experience has taught me to never ignore a gut feeling."

We looked at each other and for however long this briefing took, I knew I had back up in the form of a heavily armed psychiatrist in camouflage. Before she opened the door she called out over her shoulder, "I've got your back, Santos."

Strange, when the mission started six weeks ago I felt completely on my own. With the revelations of the past few days, I knew it wasn't over yet and suddenly I had a team that I could rely on. Now all I had to do was play this next hour cool and see if I could get some kind of sense about what we were up against.

A man walked in wearing a green Army dress uniform. He was instantly familiar, but I couldn't place him. He stuck out his hand and introduced himself. "Captain, I'm Lieutenant Paul Shea. I used to be Mr. Herbert Stewart's assistant, but now I take care of his field operatives. He asked me to handle your debriefing today, so your last mission can be officially closed and classified."

I guess that explained why he was familiar. Seeing the guy in front of me, practically busting out the seams of his dress uniform, I wondered when the army had relaxed its stance on steroids. I knew him from when he sat in the clerical desk outside Stewart's office, and he never could have packed on this kind of beef without some chemical assistance.

He looked over at Dr. Walker and said, "Amy, you can leave, and I'll let you know when we're done with your office."

I was about to object to the casual use of her first name, but before the first word could come through my lips I heard her say, "Actually, Lieutenant, I'd prefer you refer to me as either Dr. Walker or Major Walker."

Damn, she outranked both of us. Shea seemed a little surprised that she stood up to him with so much background. Apparently, his instructions didn't include her having a spine.

Before he could come up with a suitable comeback she pushed more. "This is my office, my patient, and with my security clearance I am within my rights to insist on being present if that is Captain Santos' desire."

Shea looked me with an expression that was meant to frighten me into dismissing her. Instead I held his gaze and said, "Dr. Walker, I'd appreciate you staying. I still don't feel well after my fever, and I know we were in the middle of a session that I'd like to complete when this is over."

I heard the squeak of her office chair break the tension in the room as she sat down behind her desk in a seat of authority, further establishing her position of dominance. When it came to playing head games, she was a genius.

Lt. Shea was clearly not pleased, but had the good sense to not push it any further. He sat down on the sofa and pulled out a packet of papers from a sealed envelope. I'd been through this song and dance routine before, so I knew all the questions before he asked them. As we neared the end of my nearly full disclosure he asked if I knew how I got out. I considered answering it completely since Dr. Walker had explained that mystery to me earlier, but there was a voice in my head telling me to hold back.

"I know some Ranger's in a helicopter picked me up, but I don't have a clue how they knew where we were, or when to come. When the missile hit I assumed I was a goner. How I got here is a bit foggy." I wondered if he'd accept that.

That answer must have satisfied him and completed the debriefing because he decided to push his luck by saying, "I thought the shrinks here were supposed to get your memory back for you."

I smirked at his arrogance, wondering if anyone would miss him if I grabbed his throat with my hands and twisted his head in the opposite direction of his shoulders. I knew the cast would slow me down, but the element of surprise might allow me to take him out. I didn't usually think about taking out innocent people, but something about this asshole had me seeing some serious red, and I found I could picture his body hitting the floor lifeless pretty easily.

"Santos, you don't want to go there," Dr. Walker said softly, watching me carefully as though she knew exactly what I was thinking. I stretched my neck as a distraction to buy myself a few minutes before facing the arrogance in front of me once more.

Finally I told him, "Dr. Walker has helped me to get most of memory back, and each day I seem to recollect a little more. With her help I'm sure I'll be able to piece together the few holes that remain."

His face hardened briefly and I knew he was a threat of some sort, but I couldn't place why that would be so I watched him as he tried to play it cool and ask some unimportant closing questions.

We finished up the debrief in ten more minutes with me having shared all the details except our pick up and the words from the mystery guy that had attacked my men and me. He seemed satisfied, so Shea packed up and put everything back into his briefcase and stood to leave. "I'll let Mr. Stewart know you're done."

"You do that," I told him. "I promise you I'm completely done running ops."

He acknowledged Dr. Walker with a tilt of his head and then left. The office was silent for a few minutes with both of us processing what had just happened when her desk phone rang. She answered it and then grimaced before holding the handset out to me. "It's Shea," she mouthed as I wheeled over to get the phone.

"Santos…" He said with an edge to his voice that hadn't been there during the face to face session. I felt my stomach turn and hoped I would be able to hold onto my lunch. I knew exactly what he was going to say before the words came across the line. "Since you're alive and well with so much to live for, Mr. Stewart may want to call you up again even without a contract. I'll pass your message along to the boss that you think you're done, but you need to be careful about making promises you can't keep." With that veiled threat, he hung up.

"Son of a bitch!" I screamed as I slammed down the phone.

Suddenly my head was consumed with a splitting headache and I found myself putting both hands up to my temples to apply pressure in the hope of blocking some of the piercing pain. Dr. Walker was around the desk like lightening and put a hand at the back of my neck to hold me still as I had begun to rock forward and backward from the waist as a response to the pain.

"Stay with me Santos," she commanded in her superior officer tone. I tried to obey out of habit as much as out of a desire to please her. I could hear her calling for Ben to come in and ordering him to bring twenty-five milligrams of something.

I heard the door to her office open and Ben tell her he had what she needed. I had stopped rocking but it was only the pressure hold at the base of my neck from Dr. Walker that was keeping me still. She jabbed my upper arm with a needle and dismissed Ben quickly. When the door closed, she put her hand on the top of my hair and began to run her hand through it, soothing and comforting me. "You don't have long before that kicks in. What set this off?"

"Shea, is the mystery guy from Afghanistan," I told her beginning to feel the pain recede along with my grip on consciousness.

"Are you sure?" She asked loudly, trying to keep me with her a little longer.

"Voice on the phone was the same," I told her feeling the darkness surround me. Then I whispered, "Told me not to make promises I can't keep."

The last thing I heard was my steady mental health professional echo my words, "Son of a bitch!" before the darkness came over me too strongly to resist.


	11. Revealng

_I didn't create the Plum universe characters below. All the credit goes to JE._

_Fredda (Rangergirl1234) in the midst of all you have going on, I can't thank you enough for squeezing in beta time for me as well._

_Amy (beancounter74) thanks for offering me some real life inspiration for Dr. Walker. Hopefully the information below will do you justice._

**Chapter 11 - Revealing**

I could feel gentle rows being plowed in my hair with fingernails ever so lightly touching against my scalp. The slow movement from my forehead back to the crown of my head was repeated without pausing, and I found the hypnotic element hard to resist, electing to keep my eyes shut and just float in the bliss of the moment.

Gradually my ears came back on-line and I could hear voices around me speaking in a hushed way, trying not to disturb my rest. My eyelids each felt a few hundred pounds, so I was in no hurry to try lifting them.

"Did you know him too?" Dr. Walker was questioning someone.

"We had the same handler, so I'd met Shea, but I've been out of running missions for just over a year. I haven't heard from him since he was just the secretary to Stewart when I was active," Bobby's voice replied.

"Why would he be gunning for Santos?" She followed up.

There was a long pause before Bobby ventured a guess. "Santos is a machine in the field. He is fully focused and dependable to deliver results. I don't know if Stewart was unwilling to let him go and figured by saving Les from the suicide mission he might be able to lure him back in, or if Shea just got tired of hearing about the famous Santos and stepped out on his own to get rid of the competition."

"If Shea was in the military, why wasn't he doing missions of his own if that's what he wanted?" Dr. Walker asked a great question.

"I asked around with some friends in DC and they said he ran a few but was injured and forced to retire a few years back. He had been bragging lately that he had a doctor that was willing to testify to the fact that he was physically able to perform his duties in the hope of getting back on a black ops team, but Stewart didn't have any openings yet," Bobby informed her.

"You'd think he'd welcome Les' last mission then because it was clearing out a space to be filled," she pushed.

Bobby chuckled, "Yea, but word is Shea isn't the guy Stewart wanted to fill the slot."

Silence descended once more and I felt a pair of warm lips press against my temple. As good as it felt, I didn't want to disturb the conversation taking place around me, so I continued to play possum and just laid there, absorbing her touches and love.

After a while Bobby decided to try asking a question of his own. "I mean no disrespect, but can I ask why you're doing all of this?"

"Doing what?" Dr. Walker asked not sounding the least bit put off by his question.

"Trying to help Santos sort this out and keep him safe to give him a chance to piece together the clues about this threat," he explained. I had to admit I'd like the answer to that one too.

I could almost picture her touching that scar, but I didn't open my eyes to check. Fortunately, Bobby gave me a visual by following up, "Why do you do that whenever you're asked a question about your motivation?"

"Do what?" She asked, curious.

"Touch the scar on your neck. Your hair is covering it now, but I remember seeing it yesterday when you were in your fatigues.

There was a muffled laugh and a deep breath. "Let's just say I've seen what can happen when I chose to ignore the feeling that something fishy is going on, and I don't think I'd survive the fallout again."

"Is that the answer to why you're doing this, or why you touch your scar?" Bobby pushed a little.

"Maybe both," Dr. Walker replied cryptically. "I tend to mess with the cut on my neck when I'm distracted or thinking, out of habit more than anything. It was a wrong place at the wrong time kind of injury."

"What place was the wrong place?" Bobby kept going, showing more interest in her story than he usually did when someone was being so evasive.

"The wrong end of the glass I suppose," she replied flatly. After silence settled into the room I heard a ragged inhale and then Dr. Walker started talking. "My late husband, Victor, was a great soldier. V's record and that of Captain Santos were very similar. He drew people to him and was just an amazing, honorable man. A couple of years ago he came back from an op beaten and bruised. He swore that he was done with missions and he notified his handler he wanted out."

When she paused Bobby told her, "You don't have to tell me if it's too hard. It's none of my business, but you can trust me if you want to keep talking."

She didn't respond to his words directly, but by continuing her story she must have believed he was trustworthy. "That last mission was horrible, and he struggled sleeping. His dreams were vivid, and every night he continued trying to fight the battles that had been so screwed up in the jungle. For a while it got worse, but I stayed by his side trying to help in whatever way I could. I was still pretty new at this, so I don't know how effective I was, but he began to improve and the dreams went away. When his handler called and told him he'd drop the remaining year on his contract if he would run one final mission, V jumped at the chance. He was convinced that if he could get back in the field and do a successful mission that it would rid him of the feeling of failure and the dreams would disappear on their own."

"That's not what happened though is it?" Bobby prompted.

"Not exactly. I didn't want to clear him to go back on his final mission. I'd read the manifest and thought it was another mission doomed to failure, so my heart didn't want him to go. We fought over it, giving us the first real fight of our marriage. There was no medical reason for me to hold him back, and he passed all his psychological exams too. I had someone else perform the mental assessment, and he was recommended for return to service. I figured it was just my own reservations getting in the way. Finally, I couldn't take the tension anymore and I gave in and let him have his way, clearing him for service once more. The night before he left he fell asleep and didn't have any dreams which gave me a false sense of peace that I'd made the right decision."

After an audible swallow she continued. "John, the doctor treating Santos' injuries, came to the house the next morning, furious that his brother was going out again. He tried everything possible to keep V from leaving, and when that didn't work he turned on me telling me I was all but killing his brother. That infuriated V, so the fists started flying in the kitchen. I stepped back to get out of the way because they'd done this before, and V always came out on top. The next thing I knew, John said something that I couldn't make out, but it pushed V beyond his normal restraint turning the fight much dirtier than normal. I can't exactly explain what happened except John ended up airborne and fell into a section of shelving that had glass containers on it which fell and shattered all over the floor. V started to walk away assuming his brother had the good sense to know he'd been beaten."

Something told me the story was about to get dirty. "When V's back was turned, his brother picked up a large piece of glass and threw it at his back. I screamed for him to drop and his instincts kicked in allowing him to flatten himself on the floor, avoiding the flying projectile. I was so focused on V that I lost track of the glass until it hit the side of my neck."

"John came to his senses and ran over to my side, but V decked him knocking him out cold. He took me into the bathroom and cleaned up my neck, and put the stitches in himself, which is why the scar is as evident as it is. V knew the basics from the field response training we all got from the Army, but his technique left a little to be desired. We locked John in the house after we were done, and I took V to the base where he left for his final mission that night." Her voice definitely broke up at the end of that sentence and I could hear her sniffing a little. Bobby was saying something in a low voice, but I couldn't make it out.

It must have made her feel better because she started talking again. "Anyway, the short version is that the mission was every bit as screwed up as I feared it would be. The guys were ambushed and V was killed trying to protect the kids he was commanding. About a week after V left, John showed up one evening. We were standing at the door of the house and he was beginning to offer a lame attempt at an apology when the black Crown Victoria pulled up and three officers stepped out. I knew right away what was happening and I started to back up. John was a little slower to pick up on the clues, but as soon as they said how sorry they were to be bringing me such bad news he turned to me and said the first thing that came to his mind. He told me his brother was dead because I hadn't done my job and kept him out of the field. He reminded me that Victor had no business being cleared, and if I had been better at my job he would still be alive. It was my fault my husband was gone, and as cruel as it was for him to say it right then, I couldn't disagree with him."

"Amy, that's bull-shit. You stepped away because of the conflict of assessing your spouse and allowed your competent staff to do their job without interference. If you'd tried to keep him grounded he would have found a way out anyway. When a soldier's heart is beating for battle, there isn't much you can do to hold him back." Bobby tried to assure her.

She sniffed again before responding, "I knew in my gut that clearing him was a bad move. The trouble is my gut isn't an acceptable reason for rejecting an application to return to duty. And since his dreams were gone, nothing was interfering with his activity, strength, appetite, or skills. The only reason I had for refusing to clear him was that his mission gave me a bad feeling. But I knew I shouldn't have done it, and because I didn't listen to that screaming voice in my head, my husband is dead. I may not have pulled the trigger, or given away his location, but I am definitely part of the reason he's dead."

I heard something moving against the floor like a chair sliding across tile and then I could hear the soft sound of Dr. Walker crying. I attempted to open my eyes and before the lights forced me to shut them, I caught a glimpse of Bobby kneeling in front of her with his arms wrapped around her shoulders. Her head was on his shoulder with her face turned to his neck and her long blond hair cascading down. I could make out the expression of Bobby's face and could see both concern for the woman in his arms and hatred for the cruel actions of her brother-in-law who took the horrible circumstance of her losing her husband and making it even worse for her. I already admired the hell out of her, but hearing what she'd been through and what she'd lost made me like her even more. Based on the grip Bobby had on her, he felt the same way.

As I waited for the stars to disappear from my eyes from the light's invasion, I could hear Stephanie softly crying behind me. Not caring about the lights, I turned quickly to face her and opened my eyes to look at her. I had to squint as I still felt slightly drugged and keeping her in focus was hard, but I refused to give up. "Don't cry," I whispered.

"I can't imagine what she went through. I know I said I understood your mission meant you probably wouldn't make it back, but the truth is I wasn't prepared for it. If I had gotten that same visit, I would have fallen apart. I don't know how I would have pulled myself together to keep going. Not only has she kept moving, but she is absolutely amazing at what she does. I admire her so much," Steph offered as the explanation for her tears.

I turned my head to look at the scene behind us and could see that Bobby was still talking softly in Dr. Walker's ear. She was sobbing quietly, and he was holding her tightly to his chest. They seemed to fit, and I felt like an intruder in a very private scene.

I turned my attention back to my wife to at least give the impression of privacy and smiled when I heard Bobby suggest the two of them leave for a cup of coffee. There was a long enough delay in her answer that I worried she was going to say no, but when Bobby added, "Come on and have a drink with me and maybe I'll say something else stupid and strange to give you another reason to laugh at my nervousness."

Apparently that was too cute of an offer to pass up as she stood up and said, "I'll go, but if you call me sturdy, I'm warning you that all that time I spend in the range in the mornings isn't because my aim needs improvement." Bobby's loud booming laugh echoed as they walked out together.

Once the door closed, affording us a little privacy, I rolled again to better see Stephanie. She was looking at me with an expression of complete adoration. Before I could say anything, Steph's cell phone rang and she made a face then answered the call.

I could tell from her answers that she was talking to her mother about something her Grandmother had done. She listened patiently, chirping in occasionally when her mother gave her a chance to talk. While she was distracted with her conversation I used the time to look at my wife. She was tired; there were dark circles under her eyes that she had attempted to hide under some make-up. I wondered why she was so tired and reached up to brush the curls away from her face. She smiled at the attention but continued talking to her mom.

When it sounded like she was winding down I strained around a little more so that my mouth could have access to the underside of her neck. She shivered as I kissed my way from the bottom of her ear to the collar of her shirt. I took my time savoring the taste of her on my tongue and loving the way her body responded to my attention.

As soon as she hung up she let out the most wonderful moan. "Oh God I've missed the things your mouth can do," she confessed in a sultry voice.

"My mouth has missed doing it too," I assured her, nipping her neck softly between my teeth. "How's you mom?" I asked to be polite.

Stephanie started laughing, and I knew there was a story there. "She's at the end of her rope with Grandma Mazur."

"What happened?" I asked, pulling back a little so that she could talk.

"The rehab center where Ed was being cared for called to talk to her. Apparently when the nurse came in to give him a bath she noticed his manly part had some discoloration on it, and when she examined it closer she was convinced it was bruised. They wanted to know what my Grandma had done to Ed to bruise him there. My mother assured the nurse Grandma Mazur hadn't done anything to Ed's private part and hung up."

She began to laugh softly before continuing, "When Mom asked Grandma Mazur if she knew how Ed got bruised there, Grandma doubled over laughing and explained about writing on it with a sharpie when it was hard. I guess with it back to its softer, smaller size it just looked like black skin and the nurse misunderstood, assuming it was a bruise. Since the doctor refused to give him anymore Viagra they had trouble getting it clean."

I laughed at her Grandma's most recent escapade, easily able to picture what Steph described. Then I nuzzled her neck just under her ear and said, "You know, if you wanted to write on me we wouldn't need any Viagra to tighten the canvas."

She laughed deep in her throat before saying, "I think a stiff breeze is all it would take to tighten your canvas."

"It's true I like to feel things blowing…" I began teasing her.

Before she could respond the door opened and Marcus came in. "You need some help getting ready for bed for the night?"

"Nah," I told him. "I think I can figure it out."

"Just ring for help if you change your mind," he reminded me before tipping his head at Steph and leaving us along once again.

"How about I help you test out that new cast and we get you in the shower?" She offered.

A shower sounded perfect, and a shower with Steph sounded about as close to heaven as I could get here on earth.

She led the way to the bathroom with a seductive smile on her face. After she got the water adjusted she turned back to me and undid the button at the top of her shorts. She never took her eyes from mine as she pushed them down and let them fall to the floor. When she stepped out of the pants, she kicked her sandals off at the same time and then took a step forward to grab the top of my sweatpants. She drew her bottom lip into her mouth as she began to pull the pants down, easing them over my cast. I hobbled out of the pants and as she stood back up, she grabbed the bottom of her t-shirt and pulled it up over her head. Following her lead, I grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked it up over my head before tossing it on the floor in the growing pile of clothes. Steph made fast work of her panties and bra before I had a chance to fully appreciate the cream colored lace and then took my hand in hers pulling us toward the shower.

She pushed me under the spray and the feel of the water running down my body was a pleasure I'd forgotten how much I loved. She grabbed a wash cloth and soaped it up until it was foamy with suds. "Stand there and let me get you clean all over," she commanded. I would have liked to have made a funny comment in return, but the thought of her touching me everywhere made me unable to form even a simple sentence, let alone one that was witty.

She started at my shoulder, and working the cloth in small circles like she was waxing a car, she worked her way down my chest to my waist. Just as I thought she was about to get to the place I most wanted her to be, she put her hands on my shoulders and spun me around to repeat her work on my back. I shut my eyes and couldn't believe how incredible it felt to be taken care of like this. My reasons for not wanting Steph to see me at the VA were completely gone now. Weak or not, I loved her taking care of me and wouldn't trade this for anything.

She worked quickly down my back, over my ass, and down the backs of my good leg. Then she spun me back around and worked her way back up from my feet, up my knee and thigh before smiling up at me. She gave me a little push to lean me against the wall of the shower. "Shut your eyes, and don't open them," she commanded.

I did as she asked and let my eyes close. As soon as my vision was gone I felt her hands washing my hips before moving to the area she referred to my private parts. My eyes opened and her face went from a light smile to a harsh scowl. "I thought I told you not to open your eyes. I'm not done yet, but if you're watching I'm not going to do anything else."

Sweet Jesus, we'd only shared a couple of nights together, and they were incredible with tenderness and love. We hadn't had enough time to explore all our desires, so her having a dominating side was a bit of a surprise. Even more of a shock was the fact that I immediately shut my eyes in obedience to her command, and I could feel myself harden when she said, "Very good."

Then I felt her hands move from my thigh up to grip my erection. I drew a breath in with a loud hiss as my hips moved forward on their own. "Relax," she whispered with her lips brushing over my head. "Let me do all the work."

I'd let her do anything she wanted to right now. Her warm mouth drew one of my balls in, and I couldn't figure out what to do with my hands. It was like being fifteen all over again. I flattened my palms against the wet tile and hoped enough suction would form to keep them from shifting. After thoroughly stimulating my balls she licked slowly from the base to the tip of my shaft, and I heard a groan come out of my mouth that was unlike any sound I'd ever made before.

Then she placed her lips right over the tip of my head and sucked off the small amount of moisture there. "Oh Steph…" I wanted to say something, but my mind still wasn't working. One hand jerked from the wall and gripped her hair. I was tempted to open my eyes when she opened her mouth and drew me in deeply, but there was no way I was going to give her a reason to stop.

I'd fantasized about being in her mouth for months, but my dreams certainly didn't do justice to how it really felt. It was hot and wet, and she knew exactly how to alternate the suction and pressure to make me think I was going to lose my mind.

Just as I thought it couldn't get any better, she drew me in slightly deeper and grabbed my balls. Without my permission my other hand flew off the wall and gripped her head. I didn't want to overwhelm her throat, but my hips were moving of their own accord. She hummed a sound of satisfaction, which just took me even higher. "I can't take much more," I warned her.

She released me long enough to say, "Then let go." With that command she pulled me back into her mouth, using her hand around my base to take care of what her mouth couldn't accommodate. Her other free hand continued to massage and grip my balls while my hips began to thrust with more purpose. She hummed again, a long moaning sound, and I lost my mind completely, thrusting harder and faster. Too soon I felt the heat that had pooled in my groin begin to overwhelm me, and I came long and hard into her mouth. She took everything I had to give and continued to suck me dry until my hands relaxed in her hair, giving her the ability to pull back.

She didn't seem to be in a hurry and slowly sucked her way back, making my good knee buckle. Thank goodness my cast gave me enough support to keep from collapsing. I felt like I was spinning and wondered if I should open my eyes. I could feel her kissing her way up my stomach and chest. She stood up fully in front of me and then said, "You can open your eyes if you want to now."

I lifted my lids slowly and couldn't stop the smile when my eyes focused on her slightly flushed, moist face. My hands cupped her cheeks, and I leaned down to put my lips on hers. "You are the most beautiful thing I've even seen," I told her before kissing her with everything in me.

One of the many reasons I loved Steph was the way she did everything with her whole heart. Standing in the shower with her body pressed against mine, I could feel her heart pouring love over me. As clearly as if she were talking I understood how she felt, and for some unknown reason God had chosen to bless me by letting her emotions mirror my own.

I loved this woman unlike anything I thought was possible. Everything about her from her crazy hair and deep blue eyes, to the way she refused to back down from a challenge, and the fierce way she fought to protect me in my sleep was amazing to me. I felt in many ways like I knew her better than anyone else in the world, and at the same time I felt like I could spend every night talking to her and I would still be learning new secrets. She was my whole heart, and the gratitude I felt for being spared so that I could have more time to love her was more than I could stand.

I was so thankful to be in the shower so that I had an excuse for the wet streaks on my face. Despite the warm spray running over both of us, I knew the tears on my face were a direct result of this woman in my arms.

When it got to be too much I moved to pull her tightly against my chest to hug her to me and try to get my breathing back to some form of normal. We stood there clinging to each other for a few minutes until she said, "I'm sorry to cry on you. I'm just so overwhelmed with joy that you're alive and we have the rest of our lives to be together. I need you Lester Santos, and it scares me how much I've come to rely on you."

I ran my hands up and down her smooth back and replied, "Oh Beautiful, I feel the same way." The ache I felt reading her letters was in my chest once more, but I recognized it for what it was now. My heart was so full of love for her that it was swelling and overflowing.

Then I felt the need to encourage her. "Don't be scared though Steph. I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere. Whatever you need, whenever you need it, I want to be the one to give it to you."

"Do you promise?" She asked not in a challenging way, but in a way that let me know that she just needed the reassurance.

I heard the words of Shea echoing in my head, threatening me not to make promises that I couldn't keep. Before I could freak out too much about that my heart revealed the truth to me. This was a promise I could definitely make. For the rest of my life I knew I would be with her, and if it was possible I would give her anything she desired. "I promised it at our wedding, and it's even more true now. I love you Stephanie Santos, and I'll spend the rest of my life finding new ways to prove it to you."

I didn't need anything else to have a full life. I realized that my whole world was right there in my arms.


	12. More Details

_I do not get the credit for the Plum characters below. They are all courtesy of the creative genius of JE._

_Fredda (Rangergirl1234) I can't thank you enough for the work you do as the beta on this story. I am so lucky to have someone so diligent and thorough to fix all my mistakes._

_Amy (beancounter74) you are the inspiration behind Dr. Walker, I hope you are enjoying your insertion into Stephanie's life._

**Chapter 12 – More Details**

I slowly woke, suspended in that in-between place where one isn't really awake so dreaming is possible, yet you are aware that the images aren't really happening. I could tell Steph was in bed with me, and her hair was tickling the underside of my chin, so I relaxed knowing she was safe and secure in my arms.

Not having to worry about her safety, I found the images in my head growing clearer, so I tried to settle down a little more to see what my mind was coming up with. I was sitting in the briefing room in DC getting my orders the night before we headed to Afghanistan. I was on edge and hadn't been able to find the calm place I usually slid into when I was faced with danger like this mission.

The whole team was sitting around the table with me at one end and Stewart at the other. There was a CIA contact on the speaker phone in the middle of the conference room table and someone else that Stewart referred to only as his stateside operative. They weren't giving us any new information, and I found myself looking at the faces of the guys going on this mission with me. They were young and would all be coming back to their lives. I wondered if they were leaving women behind who would be waiting on them to come back home.

Then my thoughts turned to Stephanie, and I began to imagine what would happen when she got the news that I'd been killed in the line of duty. Would she keep the tri-folded flag all soldier's families were given, or would it be a hollow token that reminded her only that I wasn't coming back?

I was lost in my own thoughts when the unnamed voice on the phone said something followed by Stewart responding and the two of them laughing. I couldn't make out the words that were exchanged, but I recognized the voice as being Shea's. I tried to replay the scene in my mind, but my memory was only of my thoughts of Steph and there was nothing I could do to clarify what was said on the phone. Giving up on that I let the rest of the scene play out and noticed the guys around the table were sitting up straighter and were looking at me differently. They definitely had more respect on their faces than they had initially. Whatever had been so funny to Stewart had instilled the team with a sense of purpose.

I didn't know how to get clarification on what had changed but knew this memory had nothing more to tell me, so I let it fade to grey and opened my eyes. Steph was beginning to stir and as she moved subtly I smiled at how her hair was tickling my neck and face. A lifetime of this kind of wake up wasn't enough. I reined in my emotions before my gratitude for life began to make me a wreck, and by the time Steph opened her eyes and said, "Good morning," I had a plan in place.

I greeted her with a long kiss, not willing to miss a moment of my life with her because I had a context for the gift of our time together. "I need your help this morning," I told her, and was rewarded with a smile.

"Name it," she came back, clearly ready for anything.

"I need to get dressed and prepped for the day a little quicker than usual. Then I need you to find me some clothes that are a little more presentable than sweats and a t-shirt. There are some things I need to do, and I can't do them dressed like this." I knew I wasn't giving her much information to work with.

She looked down at my cast and tilted her head to the side as though measuring it somehow. "Dressy or casual?"

I didn't know. "Both," I finally decided. I was going to need clothes for a few days, so I needed to cover all my bases.

"I can take care of it," she assured me, reaching out to help me stand up to move into the bathroom to get ready for the day. I felt like this was the first day since I left the country that I woke up with a clear, focused plan of what I wanted to do.

Once I was dressed in the standard sweatpants I'd been wearing, I had Steph help me get on the sneakers that were in the corner of my room. I grabbed my crutches and began to slowly make my way to the cafeteria. I refused to have my breakfast brought to me like an invalid. My abs were sore from the workout with the crutches, but Jack had assured me I was good to go with all the physical activity I could handle, so it was time to start pushing myself again to keep my body in shape.

We had a quick and rather quiet breakfast together before I let Steph in on a little more information. "I need to see Dr. Walker today to see if she can hook me up with a little more information on my team. When I'm clear to leave here, I need to see the families of the guys that were killed on my mission and try to let them know how sorry I am about their loss. I also need to see the one guy that survived. Something was said in our briefing before we left, and I think he heard what I missed. I also think that it might be important to what I'm trying to figure out now."

"That's why you need the clothes?" She asked, piecing her own mystery together.

I nodded. "When you go out today, you need to take Bobby with you."

She smiled and replied, "I had a feeling you were going to say that." Then she added, "Am I in danger?"

I didn't want to worry her, but I felt like she had a right to know, and I refused to lie about it, so I laid it all out there. "I don't know exactly, but I think so. I think someone wants to get to me, and the best way to do that is by threatening you. I don't want to let you out of my sight, but I don't want to lock you up just because I've had some dreams and I'm worried."

She reached across the table and took my hand in hers to squeeze it briefly. "I'll be careful, and I really appreciate you letting me know what's going on. Just so you know, I believe your dreams are right. You aren't one to fly off the handle and make up danger when it doesn't exist. If you think something's wrong, I'm sure you're right." I was so relieved to hear her say that. I knew Dr. Walker had said I wasn't crazy, but there was still that irrational fear in the back of my mind that Steph might have her doubts about my mental health, especially after my breakdown yesterday.

"Thank you," I told her hoping she understood what her words meant to me.

"Now, let's get you to Dr. Walker's office and see when she has time to talk to you today, and then I'll give Bobby a call and see if he can go with me on a little shopping trip." I stood up and took my crutches from Steph when she offered them and began to make my way slowly down the long corridor. It was still early by some people's standards, but 0700 was plenty late enough for most Army people to be in their office.

I didn't have much experience with entering her office, and I blame the fact that I had spent so much time with her over the last few weeks that I was beginning to cross the line of thinking of her more as a friend than my physician for what happened next.

I nodded at Steph and she opened the door and swung it open to reveal a scene I was pretty sure I wasn't supposed to see.

That cup of coffee yesterday must have been a good one because Bobby was sitting on the leather sofa in the office with Dr. Walker straddling his waist. He was bare chested and one of his nipple rings was glimmering in the light, but the other was hidden from view as it was currently in the mouth of my shrink. Her fatigues were loose, making me think they were unbuttoned in the front and Bobby's hands were under the material of her shirt. I could hear Bobby moaning as the door swung open, so whatever she was doing to him was being really appreciated by my friend.

Stephanie spun around to keep from invading their privacy and her face began to resemble a tomato. I, on the other hand, had trouble looking away. I wasn't really shy about sex, and Dr. Walker was still covered from my point of view, so I couldn't resist ribbing Bobby a little. "I didn't realize you were getting a private session, Brown." The grin on my face was threatening to leave me with sore cheek muscles.

"Santos," Dr. Walker's voice called out without her head turning in my direction. "Lock the door, close it tight, and don't come back for…" she paused and looked at Bobby. A little silent communication passed between them before he smiled and said, "At least an hour."

"You want me to hang a hat on the knob in the hall?" I asked, referring back to the cue we used to leave when we bunked together in hotels to indicate we had a woman in there and needed a little privacy.

"Santos, don't make me medicate you again," she threatened, turning her head slightly so that I could see the flush on her face. Her hair was down, and in her current position it was hard to think of her as the competent doctor I knew she was. Right now she was a woman getting it on with my best friend, and I couldn't be happier about it. They both deserved this. "I'll be back around 0900."

Bobby glanced at the clock and grinned, "That might do it," he said leaning up to kiss up the bare neck in front of him. Her head turned back to him and I knew they were back in their own little world, so I engaged the lock on the door like she asked and shut the door, checking to be sure it was shut tightly.

I might not feel bad about barging in on them, but I wasn't about to let anyone else get a glimpse of what I saw. As soon as the door shut Steph put her hand over her eyes and shook her head. "I can't believe we just walked in on that."

I grinned at her. "I'm glad. This way we know where things stand between them. Besides, we've got a little time to kill and after the little peek I might have some ideas of how to spend it."

"Oh no, I want to go outside and get that image out of my head, and I want you to come with me," she said still sporting a lovely blush on her cheeks.

I moved closer and nuzzled her neck to reply, "I can get that image out of your head, guaranteed. And my plan definitely includes me coming with you."

She giggled and then smacked my arm. It looked like she put a lot into the hit, but she didn't hurt me, so I couldn't help but laugh at her mock indignation. Seeing that she wasn't going to be convinced I straightened up and said, "Lead on, and I'll follow."

She hooked her hand on my wrist and said, "How about we go together?"

I couldn't help but smile at that suggestion and we made our way to the elevator, giving me a chance to see part of the facility I had not previously been subject to. She knew exactly where we were headed and she led us to a little courtyard safely protected by the building on every side. There were a few other guys out and from the moment the sun hit my face, I knew coming outside was the right decision.

I stopped walking, lifted my head, and shut my eyes. "I knew you'd like this," she said, obviously pleased with my response to the sun.

We moved to a bench close to the door that would allow us to bask in the warmth of the outdoors. She sat as close to me as was possible, and I put an arm around her shoulder, content to have her in my personal space as much as she wanted.

We talked about nothing in particular until I noticed someone approaching, pushing a man in a wheelchair. I didn't want to stare at them, but when it became obvious they were coming to us, not to the door, I turned my head to see them better and Steph stopped talking immediately.

"Sir, I'm Lieutenant Williams. We served together on our last mission," he began hesitantly, as though I wouldn't recognize the face of the only other survivor of our screwed up mission.

"I know who you are Williams," I assured him, steeling a glance down to see that he was missing the lower half of his left leg. There was a woman standing behind his wheelchair and he dismissed her with a few words in a language I didn't recognize.

Steph started to get up, but I grabbed her hand and held it tightly in mine to keep her from leaving. I had a feeling this was going to be a difficult conversation, and I needed her with me.

"So you really are married," Williams said looking at our clasped hands.

"I am," I repeated unsure of why he said that. "Why do you seem surprised?

He let out a long breath and ran his hand over his fresh buzz cut before talking. "You're a bit of a legend in the Rangers, as much for your work on missions as for the partying you would do after they were over. When I heard you were going to be my CO for my first Black Ops, I was thrilled thinking I was going to learn from the master and have a good time doing it. But when we met you in person, you were so serious and business like that I didn't know what to think. Then during the briefing before we left we realized they had basically told us that you were being ordered to kill yourself in order to take out the enemy."

I was about to ask about the memory I was batting around this morning when he started talking again. "Stewart was joking with that jackass on the phone about how you said you wanted out, so he was making sure you got your wish. Then one of them said something about you leaving a wife behind that they'd need to watch over. Then they laughed like the funniest thing ever had been said. The guy on the phone made a comment that with your past he was shocked to hear you could settle on just one woman, which had him interested in what was so special about her. The guys and I talked about it that night at the hotel and we decided when we got back, if you weren't with us, that we would pay a visit to your widow and let her know what an honor it had been to know you. I mean, I'm not married, but if they had asked me to go on a mission and basically guaranteed that I wouldn't be coming back, there is no way I could have just sat there calmly like you were. We were totally impressed and realized we had a long way to go to be a real hero like you."

I couldn't listen to anymore of his compliments while seeing him sitting there missing a leg. "Williams, I'm just a man, no different from you."

"With all due respect sir, I disagree," he replied.

"Do you know why things got so FUBAR'd after I left?" I asked him, curious if his version would be any different from what I remembered.

"I know Collins went into the cave by himself with his radio. I asked him what he was doing and he blew off the question. I was on lookout at the cave's entrance, so I let it go figuring he was worried about you or feeling guilty about what was about to happen. When he came back we all just waited, then we heard the automatics hitting us from the hills to our north. Me and Cooper returned fire, and Collins came up swearing saying some kind of gibberish about how they weren't supposed to be firing to extract us. I had no idea what he was talking about."

I assumed Collins was the one I had to thank ultimately for getting the chopper there to bring us home. "We saw you coming back, firing back, and ducking for cover. Man, it was like watching you dance, missing the bullets and moving toward us. I remembered the rocket launcher and the cave just behind me collapsing. I got partially buried, and my leg was stuck. I figured I was a goner since there was no way I could walk, even if we could get rid of the guys firing on us. But you came around the corner, moved some of the rubble, and told me to hang on. The guys were trapped in the cave, but you promised to get them out too."

I wanted to hear this part of the story, so I tried to be patient while he gathered himself up. "Then I heard that voice from the phone tell you not to make promises you couldn't keep, and the whole world exploded. The rocks that you moved were back, and I felt like I was on fire. There were some more bullets flying, and I took a couple to the thigh before I blacked out. How the hell I got here, I have no idea. I figured you had something to do with it, so when I saw you sitting here I had to come over and say thank you."

My version and his were pretty similar although I think he gave me more credit than I was really due, but I didn't want to debate it right now. "You're getting along pretty well," I commented pointing to his chair.

"I was kind of pissed when I first woke up here and realized what they did to my leg. But when I heard you and I were the only two that survived, and at the time they weren't so sure you would pull through, I got over being pissed and started being grateful just to have made it out at all," he replied, impressing the hell out me with his attitude.

"Do you know who the guy on the phone and in Afghanistan was?" I asked him just to verify what I already knew.

"I never met him, but Collins told me he was supposed to be our contact when the mission was over and he reported directly to Stewart. I think his name was Shea, but I'm not sure that's right," he answered, confirming my thoughts.

"Can I ask you something?" He pushed, seeming unsure if he was about to upset me.

"What?" I said, giving him permission to talk.

"You told Stewart you were leaving Black Ops, but why was he so pissed about it? Collins said he overheard Stewart on the phone when he first reported to his office for the briefing, and Stewart was telling someone that you were too much of a liability if you weren't still under his command, and they needed to find a way to eliminate you or keep you under their control. Is everybody that does these kinds of missions looked at like that when they're done, or do you know something that makes you more of a threat than the rest of us?" That was a loaded question.

I shrugged, unsure of the answer myself. "I've run a ton of missions, and I've seen all kinds of shit. Different administrations have allowed more than others. Right now we tend to run more direct, probably more acceptable assignments, but I've been called on to take people out that weren't clearly identified as a terrorists. I don't know if some of the more questionable jobs have him worried that I'll talk or not. Whatever the reason, I intend to put an end to it."

"If there is anything I can do to help…" he started before looking down at his missing leg and stopping himself midsentence.

"Williams, you've already helped me a great deal, but I appreciate your offer. And I wouldn't hesitate to call on you if the opportunity presented itself," I assured him, glad to see him look up and smile.

I stood up and Steph handed me the crutches so that I could walk away under my own steam. "Sir," he called out once we'd begun to walk away.

"Yea, Williams," I replied, turning my head to look at him.

"It was a pleasure to serve with you, even if it was for just one mission. I'll never forget the look of you coming back to fight for us," he said with a catch in his voice indicating he was close to losing it.

"I feel the same way Williams. You did me proud," I told him and meaning it. Steph squeezed her hand around my wrist, and I began to move back to the door.

"It's a little after nine," she said once we'd gotten back inside. "Do you think it's safe to go back to Dr. Walker's office?"

I laughed at her question. I knew that down deep Steph was probably busting at the seam to ask me about my mission, but she was changing the subject instead. I shouldn't have allowed her to hear any of that conversation, but I couldn't send her away either. I needed her beside me to keep me level while I was listening. Somehow she understood that and wasn't pressing for more details. This was just one more piece of evidence as to why she was the perfect woman for me.

I couldn't help but notice Steph's face was turning pink as we stepped off the elevator and approached the closed door of Dr. Walker's office. I knocked rather hard on the door and smiled when I heard Dr. Walker call out, "Enter." It was like hearing a female version of Ranger.

I smiled at the different picture I had in front of me this time when the door opened. They were standing over by her book shelf and were discussing her model of the Mustang that looked just like Bobby's car. The similar expressions on their faces told me this was one of many things they found they had in common.

"I hate to interrupt, but I'd love a chance to talk to you at some point today," I told Dr. Walker with a grin.

"Normally, I'd tell you to make an appointment, but for you I'll make an exception since it's the first time you've sought me out," she countered with a little sass in her voice.

Bobby sat the model back on the top of her shelf and shook his head. Steph took that moment to speak up and asked, "Bobby, if you have some time while these two are talking, I need to go to the mall, and I think he'd feel better if I didn't go alone."

Bobby's game face fell in place as he glanced at me for confirmation that it was alright for Steph to go to the mall. I nodded once in a firm way and he told Steph, "Let's roll."

She started to walk away, but I grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to me. She looked at me, confused about why I was pulling her back, so I placed my hand on the back of her neck and guided her face to my own so that I could kiss her goodbye. When I pulled back she looked a little stunned, so I whispered, "Be careful, and don't stay out there any longer than you need to."

"I'll stay with Bobby, don't worry about me," she replied beginning to step back.

"I love you," I reminded her, feeling the need to be sure she always knew that.

Her hand went over my heart and she smiled to reply, "And I love you." After another soft kiss she dropped her hand and I let her walk away with my best friend, hoping to God he could keep her safe and bring her back to me soon.

As they left Bobby shut the door behind him and Dr. Walker seemed to undergo a complete transformation from the happy go lucky woman that had been laughing with Bobby to the hard assed doctor who had gone toe to toe with the man who tried to kill me.

I'm not sure what idiot called women the fairer sex. As far as I was concerned, they were the most amazing gender; tough as nails when they needed to be, soft as silk when the time was right, and able to bear so much for the men the cared about. I didn't agree with Bobby's description earlier, but for some reason the word sturdy was coming to mind. Maybe it wasn't the insult I thought it was after all.


	13. It's all in a Name

_The credit for the wonderful Plum universe characters all belongs to JE._

_Fredda (Rangergirl1234) I can't believe how blessed I am to have such a supportive Beta to work with. Thank you!_

_Amy (Beancounter74), trying to fictionalize (is that a word?) you as Dr. Walker has been loads of fun. Thanks for lending yourself to the story._

**Chapter 13 – It's All in a Name**

"So what does a guy have to do to get out of here?" I asked Dr. Walker.

"What, you aren't enjoying your stay at the Uncle Sam resort?" She tossed back at me.

"I think there are some places I could better use my time than hiding in here," I admitted.

"Let's talk about where you think your time could be better spent instead of discussing your escape plan," she turned the conversation.

"I need to visit the families of the men who served with me. I need to tell them they should be proud of their sons," I began, wondering how in the hell I would actually do it.

"That can be done at any time. It's already been weeks since they were notified, a little longer isn't going to change anything. Now tell me what you really want to do," she pushed.

"I need to find Shea and eliminate the threat to me and Steph so that we can live our lives without constantly looking over our shoulders," I tried again to come clean.

Dr. Walker looked at me, or more correctly, she looked through me, and then replied, "And what if the threat is greater than just Lieutenant Shea? If he's just following orders wouldn't it make sense to take out the one giving the orders first?"

"Of course it would, but I'm not entirely sure how to get to that point. I'd hoped that if I showed I wasn't going to take this lying down that whoever is gunning for me would let it go," I replied.

"Can you tell me sitting here you honestly believe that is a possibility?" She pressed obviously, not believing it a bit.

We talked for the next hour about what we really thought was going on, and we both agreed that Stewart in DC was most likely after me, but we couldn't come up with any reason why that would be. "I tried to get a hold of your mission log assigned by him, but I couldn't," she admitted to the last dead end she'd run up against.

There was a soft knock at the door, which Dr. Walker barked out "Enter" as a response to. Bobby walked in with Steph right behind him. He was sporting a big smile making me wonder what was so damned funny.

He ended my curiosity when he said, "Shit girl, you sound just like our boss back home."

Steph and I both laughed at his comparison of Dr. Walker to Ranger. Strangely, she had a similar way about her of commanding respect and instilling trust, so the comparison fit on a number of levels. Of course, the way the company medic was currently looking at my shrink as though she were on his favorite menu was nothing like the way we looked at Ranger, so I guess the comparisons ended there.

Stephanie walked over and sat beside me on the couch. I put my arm around her, pulling her to my side in order to assure myself that she was back and safe with me once more.

To end our discussion Dr. Walker said, "I'm okay with beginning the release process, but I still think you should proceed slowly until you come up with a way to get the information about Stewart."

"What information?" Stephanie asked, unable to stop herself.

"I need a way to see what missions I've run for Stewart. For some reason he sees me as a threat, and I think he is the one pulling Shea's strings to take me out. Until I can get to the heart of things, I can't completely eliminate the danger to us," I explained carefully.

"What information do you need on them?" Steph asked with that look on her face that told me she was cooking something up.

"As much as I can get, but copies of the objective at a minimum would be great. Of course, no one is just going to let me have that, and I've been doing this for nearly ten years, so there are too many for me to recreate," I didn't want to dampen her enthusiasm, but I wanted to let her know she wasn't going to be able to help.

Then Steph did the unexpected and pulled out her cell phone and a slip of paper torn from an envelope. I smiled thinking of the inadvertent things she had sent to me that had been written on the back on my letters. After she dialed, I looked at her and raised an eyebrow wondering what she was up to. She held up her index finger letting me know I would have to wait for the answer to my question.

"Eric Johnson please," she said sweetly. Why did she want to talk to the secretary for my handler?

"Eric, it's Stephanie Santos. I'm sorry to call you again so soon, but I need your help," her voice had a syrupy hint to it that was completely foreign to anything I'd heard from her before.

After a pause she began to talk again, but this time her voice cracked making me angle better to see her face to insure she wasn't really crying. "It's Lester, he isn't doing very well. He's gotten an infection from some complication from his surgery, and he's haunted by nightmares that are making his rest at night next to impossible. His doctor thinks if we could help to get rid of the dreams that he might be able to work to reduce the infection, but no one seems to have the information we need to battle the nightmares."

Then the little Oscar worthy actress continued, "Are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose, but I'm desperate to do something to help him. I can't lose him now." After a brief pause she jumped in, "I need to know about his missions. Not all the details, I mean, I am just his wife, but his psychiatrist has top level clearance and she needs to know what he's done or not done to be able to figure out what battles he's fighting at night."

She pretended to have a runny nose. I couldn't believe how hard it was to listen to this. Her voice was so realistic that my heart hurt to think of her suffering, even though my eyes could see she was just acting. Damn, maybe I needed to spend some time with a shrink after all for some bigger issues than just a few dreams.

"Do you think it's possible?" Her question caught me off guard. I had expected her to get shot down. "When?" That question was even more alarming. "Where should I meet you?" As much as I wanted this information, the idea of Stephanie meeting with someone from Stewart's office had 'bad idea' written all over it with big dark letters.

"No, that doesn't sound like a good idea. Maybe some place more public so that you have a way to deny any wrong doing. This could be dangerous for you." Now that was more like it. She was taking her security more seriously, not that I had any intention of letting her meet this creep, but I still liked the way she was handling the situation.

She spoke for a few more minutes, and I saw Bobby get up and walk out of the room with his cell phone in his hand. I figured he was checking in at RangeMan. Since I was temporarily out of the loop I couldn't help but wonder when it became okay to use cell phones in hospitals. I thought they were not supposed to be on at all.

Before I could get too lost in my thoughts, Bobby came back in the room and leaned on the edge of Dr. Walker's desk. She was obvious in her appreciation of the view this afforded her, and I couldn't help but feel happy for those two. At some point I was going to make sure and corner Bobby to get some details.

Just as I was crafting a list of questions to get the info I wanted from him Steph hung up and declared, "If you can find a way to get it secure enough I have Eric Johnson coming here tomorrow morning with the manifests only for all your missions for Mr. Stewart. It will be on his laptop and we won't be able to print it off, but he will let Dr. Walker review the info he has. I'm pretty sure I can distract Eric enough since we're meeting in the little courtyard outside for her to copy all of it to a flash drive so that you two can review it privately."

Shit, my wife was amazing. Of course she was also setting herself up to get killed, and I couldn't allow that. Just before the words came out of my mouth she jumped in and said, "And before you try some macho bullshit to tell me this is too dangerous, please remember that we can control this situation. But if we don't do this you are suggesting we just leave here with no idea what is after us and go back to Trenton where I will not survive long on lock down. This is your best bet to keep us safe, and I suggest you find a way to get comfortable with it, because I'm going to do it."

I was too shocked to say anything briefly, which gave Bobby a minute to jump in. "I called Ranger and filled him in quickly. He's asking some guys from the New York office to come over here so that we can use them for security and for back up. I think we can control the meeting well enough to get the information if you guys think it would be useful intel."

Dr. Walker spoke up next. "I'd be with Steph, so there is no way she would get hurt. And I'm pretty sure if I had five minutes I could copy the information without him knowing. Then we could review it and see if there is any motivation for this vendetta he seems to have against you."

"You guys seem to have this all planned out except for one thing," I pointed out keeping my temper mostly in check. "There is no way in hell I'm letting my wife stick her neck out for me."

Stephanie's head spun around to face me so quickly that I was sure she would pull something. Dr. Walker must have noticed it too because she jumped in and tried to defuse the situation. "Les, I think you need to think about the position you're asking Stephanie to put herself in. We just told her this is information you need to keep both of you safe. She came up with an excellent plan to get the data we need, and now you are telling her she isn't capable of doing this. I understand the need you have to protect her, but are you sure there isn't more to it than that?"

Bobby spoke up then. "Man, this is like a standard distraction that she does all the time, except since it's here we can control it even better. With the extra back up from RangeMan we can keep them both covered."

I rubbed my hand over my face, trying to get a grip. I knew they were all right. A part of my brain was already able to picture how to set up security so that Steph was safe, but the louder part of my brain was screaming for me to get her to a safe house and lock her up in a basement until this was all over. She's be pissed as hell, but after I apologized there was the possibility of make-up sex.

I shook my head, knowing how ridiculous that was. I had an image flash across my mind of us lying in my bed in the condo after we got back from our wedding in Atlantic City. She was telling me her biggest fear about marriage, which was that I would want to change her. I quickly assured her that I fell in love with her for who she was now, and I had no intention of ever changing that. As much as I hated the idea, I knew I couldn't hold her back. I promised I wouldn't try to clip her wings, and I refused to fail the first test of that promise.

I took Stephanie's hand in mine and squeezed it. She relaxed a little, knowing that I was coming around to the fact that this needed to be done. I pressed my lips into her hair and took a deep breath while trying to pull my professional head back on straight and spoke quickly before my heart slapped the professional head back off. "I'm sorry. Of course you are not only _capable_ of doing this, but you are absolutely amazing to have _thought_ about it and arranged it so quickly."

"I'll be careful," Steph assured me with a smile in her voice.

Dr. Walker then spoke up. "So when will this happen, Stephanie?"

"Tomorrow morning at six." There was a bit of a groan in her voice because she was many things, but a morning person was definitely not one of them.

"You'll be here until then?" Bobby asked, looking at Steph. She turned to see me better, and I nodded at her.

"Yea, I'll be with Les or in his room when he goes down for PT," she replied.

"I'll call the NY office and get the guys over this afternoon for a briefing, and we'll get everything set up." Then Bobby turned his face to look at Dr. Walker before shifting back to look at me. "I'll keep them safe, man, I promise." I was struck with the fact that he had something to lose here too. He and Dr. Walker hadn't known each other for very long, but she'd obviously made a pretty big impact on him in that short period of time. I already knew how he felt about Stephanie, and I believed he was a man of his word when he vowed to watch over Stephanie as his own.

I was a little on edge about promises being made with the words of Shea still ringing in my head, but I believed my friend's intent with all my heart, so I thanked him and started to get up.

A couple of hours later I was downstairs in the PT room with Jack doing some stretches to work my hip a little. Bobby was going over who was coming and how he had planned out coverage. It was obvious he had everything under control, which was no surprise to me. Bobby didn't know how to do anything half way.

By the time he finished talking, Jack had set me up on a weight machine to begin working my upper body. He left us alone, so I took the chance to throw out a question at my friend. "So you and Dr. Walker, huh?"

I'd known Bobby long enough to know when his head went down slightly and his eyes looked everywhere but at me that he was embarrassed or nervous about having this discussion. I also knew the fact that he didn't tell me to shut up meant that he was going to say something if I could just be patient enough to let him get his thoughts together.

Finally, he looked up and said, "She's one hell of a woman."

"Couldn't agree more," I assured him, meaning it one hundred percent.

The smile that broke out across his face told me he was glad that I agreed with him. "We've spent hours talking, and there is nothing she won't discuss. I mean, politics, history, medical care, cars, sports…everything is on the table. She's so smart and speaks her mind freely and she's just…amazing."

"I think you've got a thing for my shrink," I teased him trying to keep him talking, so I wouldn't focus on the burning pull in my muscles from the workout.

"It's hard not to," he admitted before saying, "But she's here, and I'll be going back to Trenton in a day or two, so I don't know what will happen then."

"What do you want to happen?" I pushed him, trying to get a feel for how serious he was about her. I didn't really think she needed someone watching over her, but after everything she'd done for me, I still felt the need to protect her in whatever way was possible.

He blew out a gust of air and ran a hand over his neck in his thinking position. "I want her to come back with me and stay in my apartment and be there every night when I come home so we can talk and then go to bed together."

I interrupted him. "TMI, man. I don't want to hear about you and my shrink going to bed together. That image from this morning is now burned into my brain."

He laughed. "I had no idea what a wild woman she was. We went jogging and half way through the route I got hot, so I took off my shirt and ran with it in my hand. She got a glimpse of the metal on my chest and nearly ran into a tree. Once I realized it wasn't because it disgusted her, but that it turned her on, I think we both picked up the pace and got back here in record time. She let me use the staff showers, and I met her in her office once I was cleaned up. I figured once she had time to cool off she'd have her professional face back on, but when I walked through the door she shut it behind me, and the next thing I know she's straddling my lap with one of the rings in her mouth, doing things with her tongue I didn't know were possible. Then after you guys left and locked the door it was…"

Before he could finish that sentence I jumped in. "I'm happy for you man, but if you finish that sentence I don't think there will be enough bleach in the world to get the image out of my head. And as much as I hate to admit it, I think I still need her help, so leave me with the possibility of seeing her in a professional light, alright?"

Bobby had a dreamy expression on his face, and I knew he was still lost in whatever memory he had about what they shared after Steph and I barged in her office. Finally, he snapped forward and said, "I'm thinking about asking Ranger if he would use her instead of Phillips for our annual assessments."

Dr. Phillips was a seventy-year old retiree whose career long battle experience consisted of watching old war movies. But there was a short list of people with clearance great enough to do any kind of work with us and he was on it. The assessments were compulsory because of the work we did with the government, so it was a necessary evil that none of us saw a purpose in. But if Dr. Walker were the one doing it, the sessions just might serve some greater purpose. "I think it's a great idea, if you think she'll do it."

He winced slightly. "I don't know if she would, but I guess I hoped she would consider it because it would mean a couple of weeks with her in Trenton working out of my office."

Suddenly I felt bad for Bobby. He found a woman he was obviously really into and she was as career minded as he was, which meant they were looking a long distance relationship with two people holding equally crazy schedules. I didn't envy him that. "Talk to her. I'm sure Ranger will go for it if she'd be willing. I'd be glad to throw in my recommendation of how she's helped me if you think it would make a difference."

He half smiled at me. "I considered the possibility of a transfer to the office here, but Trenton is home, and I honestly don't think it's a good idea for me to live in the same town as her brother-in-law. I think if I ran into him when she wasn't around I'd be forced to finish off the job Victor didn't have time for."

Oh shit. I was pretty sure I was due for a visit from John either today or tomorrow. Usually I would insist on Bobby being present to ask the questions I didn't know to ask, but that didn't seem like such a good idea all of a sudden.

"The only thing holding me back is the job he did on you," he added seriously. "Man, you should have died from those injuries. Most other doctors would have given up, but he put hours into cleaning out your gut and fighting the infection that had begun. You're like a walking miracle."

"Was it really that bad?" I asked, knowing Bobby wasn't one to exaggerate.

He nodded. "They didn't even work on your leg and knee at first because they didn't think you'd make it. Apparently, John gets the cases no one else will take, and saving you was like a personal mission for him. I read the treatment notes and the number of times he opened you up was more than most surgeons would have attempted. He fought for you, so as much as I want to hate him for what he's done to Amy, I remember what he did for you and it's hard to beat the shit out of him like I want to."

"I can feel that," I told him, letting him know I fully understood the pull in both directions.

Bobby walked me through the rest of my workout and even gave me the rub down afterward, proving once again why he was the best person to have on your side while recuperating from an injury like this. When he finished and I managed to get myself upright once more I couldn't help but ask, "Am I going to be okay? I mean, for a while I didn't care, then I was just more focused on getting my memory back. Recently, it's been more on trying to get a secure future, but once we get all this shit worked out, what can I expect with my leg?"

Bobby made a face and said, "We'll have to ask John his thoughts. My guess is you'll be about ninety percent of what you were, but there is some serious hardware in there holding you together. It will all knit back, but I don't know that you're going to get combat ready stress levels out of it like you could before this."

"But I'll be able to run and fight, right? I mean, if I'm out with Steph and something goes down…" I couldn't finish the question.

"You'll still be able to kick some serious ass. Besides, I've seen you with your woman now and even if your leg couldn't handle it, I think just your heart alone would be enough for you to take out anybody that threatened her. You don't have any worries there, man." That was exactly what I needed to hear him say.

At some point all this crap was going to be behind us, and when it was I needed to be able to trust that I could have a normal life with my wife. Well, normal on the scale of what anyone could expect with Stephanie Plum.

Then I smiled at the thought. Maybe things would be different for her now since Plum was no longer her name. Maybe taking my last name would bring her some luck of a different kind.

Bobby and I walked back up to my room and when we opened the door the sound of male voices laughing greeted us. We stepped in and Bobby laughed as I took in the scene of Steph sitting cross legged on the foot of my bed with five guys from the NY office of RangeMan all standing around her like she was the Queen of Sheba addressing her court.

Before I could ask what the hell was going on Bobby stuck his hand out and said, "Eric, man, how are you?"

The smallest of the five guys stepped forward and put his hand in Bobby's to say, "Can't complain, Brown. I've got to tell you though, you created quite a stir when the call came into the office and said you needed four guys to pull security detail for one Stephanie Plum. The list of adamant volunteers was so long we had to cut the list down in the gym. And now that we've met her in person and have learned she's everything the stories made her out to be, there will probably be more trouble in the morning when we try to come back."

The training I got in the Ranger's taught me skills for handling just about any situation. Unfortunately, it didn't cover how to keep your mouth shut when your emotions took over and you turned into an insecure jealous control freak. But once again providence was on my side when Stephanie spoke up before I could firmly insert my foot into my mouth. "Well, it sounds like in your briefing somebody got an important detail wrong."

"What's that, Bomber?" The largest of the guys to her right asked.

She grimaced at the use of her nickname, and I was reminded that she didn't actually like it because of the memories it brought up for her. "My name isn't Stephanie Plum anymore."

That was obviously news to everyone. "So the boss finally did it?" He followed up, assuming Ranger and Stephanie were hitched.

"No," Stephanie corrected him easily while standing up and working her way over to me. "The name is Stephanie Santos now." And with no remorse at all I bent down and kissed my wife in front of the six guys currently staring at us. It was a kiss of reunion for our brief time spent apart, but it was more than that. It was a marking, where I was clearly showing these guys that while she might be amazing to work with and wonderful to look at, she was completely taken and they needed to stay the hell away from her. They might get away with calling her Bomber, but I was the only one that could call her Beautiful.


	14. Listening In

_JE deserves all the credit for the Plum universe characters below._

_Fredda (Rangergirl1234) thank you for your patient work as the beta on this story. _

_Amy (beancounter74) thank you for your inspiration as Dr. Amy Walker._

**Chapter 14 – Listening In**

I hated this feeling. I was itchy all over, and it had nothing to do with my leg in the cast. Something was wrong, and I was on edge because I could see every possible direction that problem could approach from, but I could do nothing to prevent any of them.

What kind of drugs were in my system when I let my wife, my shrink, and my best friend talk me into this asinine plan where Stephanie would distract the assistant to the man who sent me to Afghanistan on a suicide mission while my doctor tried to steal classified information from his lap top? Why did Johnson agree to this whole thing so easily?

I was pressing the ear bud into my head, desperate to catch any sound that might come through. It was 0545, so Johnson still had fifteen minutes to show up, but we were already in place. The guys from the New York office were stationed at each of the entrances to the courtyard where they were to meet, so it would be impossible for anyone to try and kidnap Steph or Dr. Walker. Bobby was there reading a newspaper about thirty feet away from his new love interest making me sweat buckets that he was looking out for his woman and perhaps not being as careful about mine. That was ludicrous, of course, because I knew Bobby would lay his life down for Steph if the situation called for it.

At the last minute last night I went to see Lieutenant Williams, who served on the last mission with me, and asked if he was up for a special assignment. He looked at the place where his leg should have been, had they not been forced to amputate it at the knee, and then looked at me with resolve on his face and promised if there was anything he could do, he was more than willing. So, Lt. Williams was in a wheelchair with some serious firepower tucked into the blanket around his legs. Marcus was smoking a cigarette near the entrance that we assumed Johnson would use.

Dr. Walker had insisted on Marcus' involvement as a condition for her participation. I didn't question it after that because I knew Marcus had been in the military, and if Dr. Walker trusted him at that level, then he must be alright.

Steph and Dr. Walker were each wearing wires, and I had a transmitter in my ear but no one was talking right now, so I was left sitting in my room wondering what in the hell was going on and trying to keep from driving myself crazy with worry. Since Stephanie had lied to Johnson and told him I was taking a turn for the worse I couldn't be seen in order to keep the cover.

I was watching the second hand on the clock on the wall take another ridiculously slow trip around the clock and trying to talk myself out of running yet another scenario in my head of what could go wrong down there. Just as I was about to say 'screw it' and bolt, my door opened and Ben came in with the surgeon on his heels.

"I saw a note in your file that you were running a fever," he said giving me the impression that he was worried. I was filled with conflicting emotions at the sight of him. My initial response was to want to stand up and deck him for the shit he'd put Dr. Walker through after losing her husband. But then I remembered what Bobby said about his skills in the surgical suite and figured there were too few good physicians who would fight to keep soldiers living in the VA hospitals. It didn't seem quite right to hurt the one who had beaten the odds and saved my sorry ass.

"I was, but somebody gave me some Tylenol and I've been on a something for the possible infection, so I guess I'm better," I said trying not to stretch the truth any further than I had to, but knowing I had to cover Dr. Walker's ass.

He looked at me and then said, "You look pale, and pasty." As he scribbled in my chart I realized the stress of waiting for something to happen was probably more evident than usual since I had no hope of burying my emotions when it came to Stephanie. "It looks like the day before yesterday Amy had to sedate you. Was that because of the fever or something else?"

"I received some upsetting news and didn't take it well," I said hating the admission as it came through my lips.

"Panic attack or migraine?" He pressed, surprising me.

"Migraine," I replied, looking at him with greater interest.

"Have you ever had a panic attack?" He pushed a little too far.

"Never, I know how to handle my emotions and I stay in control," I replied in a clipped tone.

"Except for the day before yesterday," he pointed out tersely, really getting on my nerves.

He came over and flashed a light in my eyes and asked questions about headaches, chills, and other general aches and pains. I answered them all honestly, and he made various notes in his file.

When he was done he looked at me, as though trying to make a decision, and finally asked, "I believe you can be released in the next day barring a return of your fever. I understand Amy has kept a hold on your release due to some concerns about the dreams you've been having at night. She has a habit of signing off on people when it isn't appropriate, so I want to let you know that if you feel you need additional assistance that she isn't giving you I'll be glad to work with you to find a different treating psychiatrist."

"You've got a lot of nerve coming in my room and insulting the only doctor to stand by me no matter how difficult I made it for her," I told him through gritted teeth.

"That's what she's done so far, but her past hasn't proven her ability to stick with somebody to the end when they need it," he argued.

"Man, I don't want to do this with you," I told him, trying to back down so he would leave.

"I'm just looking out for you," he tried to play the hero once more.

"From what I understand you did a great job on me when I first got here to patch me up and put me back together, so I'm grateful for that." I wasn't great at playing the bigger man, but I was trying here.

"What I'm offering you now is an assessment with someone who might be more qualified to help you with any remaining issues you may have so that you can leave here confident that you're over all the effects of your injuries," he sounded so sincere as he spoke.

My eyes narrowed and I used a quieter tone. "I don't want a different doctor. Dr. Walker has taken good care of me, and I trust her to see it to the end."

"Just so you know, the last person to give her such blind faith ended up dead," John said effectively crossing the line.

I stood up and smiled when I noticed I was four inches taller than him and a good thirty pounds heavier with pure muscle, despite the atrophy I'd experienced with my down time. "Get your back stabbing ass out of my room. And if I ever hear you insinuate that your brother's death was because of Dr. Walker again, then I will personally finish the job your brother began before he left on the mission that killed him."

"That mission didn't kill him, she did," he argued back, as though I was going to allow it.

"She stepped back because of professional restrictions and let another physician clear him for duty. When there were no legitimate reasons to keep him in the country, she allowed him to be cleared for duty. If she hadn't done it, your brother would have gotten someone else to do it instead. If you've never done a mission you have no idea how single focused you can get over something like that. There was nothing she could have done any differently and nothing she should have done any differently. You continuing to place the blame on her isn't changing the facts. He was killed because he was sent on a FUBAR'd mission. Accept it or not, but don't mention it to me ever again," I warned him.

"She had my brother so convinced he was invincible that he believed it. She made him think he was more of a man than he really was, and Victor believed she would stand by him no matter what. She might not have had a reason to keep him from the field, but she could have told him he wasn't capable of being superman forever. She could have clipped his wings with some reality about his mortality," he grasped at a straw.

"You mean she could have told him he was weak and that she didn't love him for who he was?" I questioned to be sure he understood how ridiculous he was being.

"Exactly," the punk agreed, as though it were open for debate.

I don't know why I did what I did next. I think it was the smug look on his face, as though I'd finally seen the situation his way, and he'd achieved a small measure of victory over his sister-in-law. Maybe it was that I completely understood the position Victor had been in and why he was so possessed with the idea of getting back out there one more time. Or maybe it was just that I absolutely couldn't stand the jackass in front of me. But I lifted my arm and with all the upper body work I'd been doing lately I leveled a punch at John, catching him under the chin and spinning him half way around before he collapsed on the floor out cold.

I had completely forgotten about Ben's presence at the door until he busted out laughing when the doctor hit the tile. "That man can't hold his liquor, and he can't take a punch. I can't wait to tell Doc what you said and did. She's going to love this."

I looked down and searched my heart to see if there was any regret, but couldn't find a bit. My only second thought was that he was on my floor, so when he came to I'd have to deal with him complaining about the pain in his already swelling jaw. "How about I take him out of here so you can listen in peace," Ben offered to my great relief. At that very moment, I heard Steph's voice loud and clear announcing the arrival of Johnson.

I sat back down in my chair as Steph's voice came over the wire, "He's coming out now."

I could almost picture her putting a little extra swing in her hips as she walked over to the geek in a suit and extended her hand to shake his. "Mr. Johnson, I can't thank you enough for trying to help me."

"I don't know how much help this will be, but I promised I'd help and I'm here to try." Eric Johnson's voice came out quietly and nearly cracked at the end. I wished I could see them in order to better gauge his sincerity.

"At this point, any information would be a relief. I feel like we're at a wall with no way to move forward to help him," Steph laid it on thick, with emotion dripping on every word.

"Mrs. Santos," he tried to console her and my fist tightened at the thought of him putting his hand on her in support.

Steph took a deep breath and said, "This is Dr. Walker. She is Lester's treating psychiatrist and is the one who will look at whatever information you brought with you. I don't have the clearance to see it." I liked the way she was trying to show him that he wasn't breaking the law by bringing classified information with him. Of course, if he got caught his ass would be in some serious trouble, but still, prison would most likely not be part of it.

I heard Johnson nervously clearing his throat and then some keys being typed on quickly before he spoke. "Here is a listing of all the manifests for Captain Santos. The details are pretty scarce, but this is the only listing I have full access to without having to get special permission. You can't print this out, but if looking at it while I'm here will help you in some way, then I'm glad to let you have access for a few minutes."

"What are these columns?" Dr. Walker asked, making me feel even more helpless that I wasn't there to see what she was looking at.

"Those are the codes for the agency that reached out to our office for a team. This is CIA, this one is FBI, this is standard military, homeland security, and this indicates a multi-departmental request," he explained. I couldn't wait to see this for myself to know who had been pulling my strings at will for the last decade.

"What about these two with no code?" Dr. Walker followed up.

There was a pregnant pause before he finally answered, "I've not seen that before. Literally it would mean that no one requested the mission and that our office created it, but that isn't allowed, so I have to assume whoever was keeping the records at that time just forgot to code it."

"You don't look like you believe someone would forget to code it," Dr. Walker pushed.

"I know what comes down on me when I misspell a word in a sixty page document. Leaving out a critical piece of information would be unforgiveable in Mr. Stewart's eyes. I can't imagine that being overlooked." He ended abruptly as though he might have more to say, but wasn't allowing himself to say a words.

Steph's voice came through then. "Eric, do you have a minute to sit with me on the bench over here while Dr. Walker looks over the information?" She didn't really give him much time to decline before she spoke up again. "I can't thank you enough for sending my letters to Lester when he made it here. There was a big part of me that believed when I mailed the letters off whoever was receiving them was just throwing them away, but I had to keep writing. I couldn't give up on him."

"Honestly, I was told to destroy them, but I just couldn't do it. When you called that day, demanding an address, there was something in your voice that I picked up on. I couldn't define it, but I promised myself that I would help you." God save us all from the number of promises being made concerning my wife.

Johnson started talking once more. "I snatched the letters from the mail everyday and bundled them up and took them home with me so that Mr. Stewart wouldn't find any more of them after he told me to get rid of the first one. Then, when I got a call that he'd survived and all his personal effects were to be forwarded to the hospital, I sent the first letter and waited to see if any more would be requested. Somehow, I was worried about mailing them all at once in case someone on this end had the same idea of pitching them all before he was well enough to read them."

"Oh Eric, I can't thank you enough for that. I had no idea the sacrifice you made to help me. Now I feel even worse for asking you for help once again," Steph said with complete sincerity in her voice.

"I'm glad you called. Honestly, the longer I'm there, the more I worry about the soldiers that Mr. Stewart commands. I mean, isn't it odd that a civilian is the one handing out their orders? And the way he insists on keeping them in the dark as much as possible has bothered me since I first started. The briefing he receives is usually over a hundred pages, but the one we give to the team is typically less than three. I can't believe there isn't something on the other ninety seven pages that they might need to know." As he talked I realized I believed him and I admired the way he was trying to do something to make the situation right. Of course, the fact that I agreed with everything he was saying probably had a lot to do with my sudden onset warm fuzzies at the memory of reading all those letters and how they brought me back from the brink of where I was when I first came to here.

Steph's voice cut in suddenly, which told me she was trying to draw his attention away from Dr. Walker to buy her a little more time. "Tell me, do you have a family?"

Johnson laughed, but I couldn't detect any humor in it. "No, it was a condition of the job. Mr. Stewart said that spouses made people weak, and he'd watched too many good men sacrifice themselves for a woman, so he refused to have people working with him that had wives. I'll never have a wife so it was an easy promise to make."

"Don't you want a family?" Steph pushed a little too eagerly.

"Sure, but not a wife," he replied cryptically.

There was a pause, and I could almost see Steph's wheels turning picking up on the unsaid. "But a husband would be fine by you?" She finally ventured to guess.

"That'd be my idea of heaven, if I could find the right one," he admitted cautiously.

"I can understand that," Steph said lightly, accepting this piece of news the way she did everything. "Trying to find a good man is next to impossible. It took me years to find mine."

"But I can see in your eyes, and hear in your voice that you found one; the right one," he commented.

"I did," she quickly agreed. "I really did."

"It doesn't bother you?" He asked softly. "All the stuff in his past."

Now it was Steph's turn to laugh without real amusement. "It bothers me that he was called upon to make sacrifices that no one else would make, because those sacrifices bring a weight with them that he has to carry that no one understands. But knowing he was brave and strong enough to do it only makes me love him even stronger. I know without a shadow of a doubt that my husband loves me completely. If anything, the hell he's been through in the past is only evidence of how far he'd go to keep me safe." I wiped away a single tear that fell down my cheek. She understood me, and hearing her defend my actions leveled me more than the punch I'd just thrown on my surgeon.

"See, that look right there is what I want," Johnson said trying to lighten the mood.

"This look is reserved for my husband, but be patient. I have a feeling the right guy will come along for you too. There's something pretty special about you Eric, I can just feel it," she assured him, calming me even more. Steph's gut feelings were always spot on. Whatever information he'd passed along would be reliable, and she was saying that last part to let me know it was all going to be alright.

Dr. Walker's voice came through interrupting their conversation. "I think I've got some things to work from here. I don't know if this will be the final answer, but at least it gives me some directions to try."

"If you find that you need something else, have Mrs. Santos get in touch with me and I'll be glad to help you in any way I can. There might be some details I could get access to without being discovered." Johnson was growing on me with the combination of willingness to help regardless of the cost and the respect he continually showed my wife in how he referred to her by her married name.

"I don't want to impose on you any more than I already have, Eric," Steph told him.

"It's not an imposition. I just feel like I should help you if I can. If there is information you need to help your husband I promise you I'll get it for you." As soon as the words came out of his mouth I cringed. It just sounded like he was trying to temp fate with his declaration.

Sure enough, before I had a chance to process the thought I heard the voice in my dreams say, "What is it with you people constantly making promises that you can't deliver on." Shea was in the courtyard. My hands grabbed for my crutches, and I tried to hightail it to the elevator as fast as I could in my current condition. "Damn it, Johnson, you couldn't just sit behind the desk and shuffle the paperwork like you were supposed to. You had to stick your nose in where it absolutely didn't belong."

I was struggling to hear what was happening over the sound of my own heartbeat and my heavy breathing from rushing down the hall to the world's slowest elevator. Dr. Walker's voice made its way into my brain saying, "Mr. Shea you don't want to do anything stupid here."

"Relax _Amy_," he bit back, making her first name sound like it was offensive to him. "You can go back to bossing around the whelps around here that fear you for some unknown reason. I don't give a shit about your title or your rank, so stay out of my way and I won't hurt you or any of the other patients here."

"I've already told you, my name is Major Walker," she corrected him, completely confusing me. I thought when negotiating with a crazy person you were supposed to keep them calm, not piss them off.

But it seemed his attention was not focused on her instead of Johnson. I guess that was the point. "When I'm done with him I'll deal with you. Until then, stay the hell out of my way."

"I've tried to explain to you that you have no jurisdiction here, and you can't order me around," she said in a firm tone. Man, I'll bet Shea was about to stroke out over her pushing him back. "You don't have a gun in your hand, so you obviously aren't here to hurt anyone," her tone was softer, more reassuring now.

"I don't have a gun in the open. That's not the same thing as not having one. Besides, I'm perfectly capable of killing someone with my hands alone," he reminded her. Damn it, if the elevator didn't get here soon I was going to figure out how to scale five flights of stairs with a cast.

"Is everything alright here?" Bobby's voice cut in, letting me know he'd moved in to help protect Steph and Amy.

Shea replied, "Bobby Brown, medic and Ranger who quit a year ago. Stewart let you go because he thought you'd gone soft, focusing more on putting people back together instead of taking them apart like you were trained."

If Shea thought that line of insult was going to get him anywhere with Bobby he had another thing coming. Bobby was just as lethal as I was, and he'd kept his skills sharp since his contract ended. "Before you do something you're going to regret, I need to ask you to step away from Major Walker and Mr. Johnson, and get out of here while you still can." What did he mean while he still could? I wanted that bastard dead before he reached the door.

There was some crazy laughter that I had to assume was Shea because everyone else would have found the situation too serious to whack out like that. "You seem to forget that you don't command anyone anymore." He replied to Brown.

"Now it's time for me to convey the message I was sent here for, and then I'll be on my way." The elevator dinged as Shea said his opening line. I was doing everything I could to keep my adrenaline from overtaking my body waiting for the doors to open.

"Mrs. Santos," he said making a growl come out of my throat, like I was some kind of wild animal. "Mr. Stewart has no beef with you, but you are a distraction of the worst sort for your husband. You need to back off and let him finish his commitment to the government. If you remember your place is in his bed, not his head, then we will be willing to forget about your interference in our plans."

"I don't understand," Stephanie replied, sounding as confused as I was.

"You can screw him all you want, but ultimately, what happens to his life is up to Mr. Stewart. Santos may think he's getting out, but anyone who knows the kinds of things he knows only gets out of our department one way." After a brief pause he clarified, "It ain't retirement. We won't hesitate to use you to keep him motivated as necessary."

"Why? Bobby was able to retire. Why can't Lester?" She asked, desperate for the answer and causing me to panic even more. I was afraid that she might be so desperate to get information from him to take care of me that she might forget her own safety.

"Because we own him," Shea had the balls to reply. "He was a player from day one, so he was selected for certain jobs that no one was considered for. The fact that he thinks he is ready to grow up doesn't mean we will allow it. He will continue to be useful, or he will cease to exist. Those are his only options. This mission was meant to show him just how far we'll go to make that point. But apparently he isn't listening, so I need you to carry the full weight of the message to him."

With that, there was a great deal of commotion. I heard a scream, I heard fists, I heard a couple of gun shots, then a brief pause before I heard my best friend scream, "NO!" The final sound that I processed was another shot from a gun.

I was trapped, waiting for a damned elevator while Armageddon was going on in the courtyard while the sun rose. When the doors finally opened, Ben was standing there blocking the way. "You need to get back in your room." he commanded with his arms crossed over his chest.

"No," I told him, not wanting to hurt the gentle giant but knowing I'd do it anyway if I had to in order to get to what just happened in the courtyard.

"Just wait a few minutes to let the dust settle before you go down there making things worse." He tried again to change my mind.

"Hell no," I clarified my earlier negative response to define my complete disagreement with his proposition.

Finally, I heard Dr. Walker's strained voice say, "Lester, I know you're trying to get down here. Get the hell back in your room, or I'm going to have Ben sedate you and haul your ass to bed."

"Tell her I'm staying," I said aloud, unsure if she could hear me or not.

"Santos, this isn't over, and I need to be able to say your condition is worse than people will believe if you come out here trying to be a one legged ass kicker. She's fine; now get back in your room." Her commanding tone was confusing me.

"If Stephanie is fine why isn't she talking?" I asked, wanting to believe what the doc said was true. The silence that hit me after my question only panicked me further.

Ben stepped forward. "Don't make me drug you man. I need you back in your room. You go out there in front of everybody and her reputation is shot, and her job is gone. You have to do this to protect her. I know she ain't your woman, but she's a good woman, and you have to do this to pay her back for everything she's been willing to sacrifice for you." I wanted to argue and refuse to be separated from Stephanie for a moment longer, but then he said, "Please," and I found myself shuffling backward in the direction of my room once more.

"What kind of man walks away from his wife when she's in danger?" I asked aloud, not talking to anyone in particular.

"The strong kind that knows he'll only make the danger more if he goes to her side," Ben answered me, not bringing me any relief at all with his words.

"I'm not feeling strong right now," I debated him.

"Trust me; I've never known a tougher man." Ben replied. I went back to my room completely confused and overwhelmed with emotions I couldn't understand. Ben shut the door and stood in front of it. I raised an eyebrow, asking why he was blocking the exit. "I said you were tough, I didn't say you were trustworthy to stay put. I don't know how long they'll be, and I have a feeling if you don't get answers soon, I'm going to need to knock you out to keep you here."

"I'll never let you get a needle in my arm," I challenged him.

"Never said I was going to use a drug to do it," he rose up to the challenge, indicating I was going to have to fight my way through him to get out of the room.

I'd seen men loyal to their leader to the very end, but I'd never seen one trench in as deep as Ben to follow the orders of his boss. "I can't promise I'll be able to wait for very long," I warned him, not wanting to hurt him, but feeling the need to get loose growing strong with every tick of the clock on the wall.

"I wouldn't expect you to," he replied, understanding completely that he was basically in the room with a wild animal, growing more agitated by the minute. I'd never admired a soldier more than when he lifted his chin to me. "I get what you need to do, and I know you can't control it for long."

I took a deep breath and ran my hand through my hair, trying to calm down while repeating the mantra, 'this is Ben, you can't hurt him' over and over again in my head. Then I heard a whimper in my ear and realized some sounds were coming through softly, but I had been too worked up to hear them. "She's hurt," I whispered, interpreting the sound as Stephanie in pain.

"Damn," Ben replied under his breath knowing what that knowledge would do to me. Then he began to stretch his neck to both sides, as though preparing for a fight. When he was done he bent his knees and got into a crouch ready to take whatever I threw his way. "I've got a bad kidney, so try to limit the hits to my back," he asked prepping himself to get his ass kicked, even though I was smaller than him and had a leg in a cast.

"I don't want to hurt you," I said once more, feeling my body prepare to fight its way out even if it meant going through him.

"I know that, and I know what I'm doing. But Doc said not to let you out of here, so I can't just step aside. We've both got voices in our heads that we can't deny anymore." He explained, giving me permission to throw the first punch.

I shut my eyes and took a deep breath, willing my body to calm down to avoid something I didn't want to happen here. But then there was another moan in my ear, and I knew it meant Steph was hurting. When I opened my eyes, the gentle orderly was no longer there. All I saw was an enemy keeping me from where I needed to be, and I would stop at nothing to get through him.


	15. Sorting out the Sounds

_JE deserves the credit for the creation of the lovely Plum characters below._

_Fredda (Rangergirl1234) you are such a fantastic beta. I keep throwing chapters at you and you work through them so patiently. Thank you!_

_Amy (beancounter74) your inspiration for Dr. Walker has made this story stronger. Thanks for sharing yourself with all of us._

**Chapter 15 – Sorting out the Sounds**

The sound of Stephanie moaning in pain pushed me forward with no regard for how this might not be a good idea. Ben was ready for me and was obviously in good physical shape, but I was hoping my training might give me enough of an edge to slip past him somehow.

I was out of sparring practice, but the mental picture I had of Stephanie lying on the hard ground bleeding and hurt was giving me strength beyond what I would normally be able to harness. I leaned down slightly to ram a shoulder into Ben's diaphragm, hoping to knock the breath out of him. When his large body slammed against the door the sound was horrendous. He grabbed me around the waist and lifted my legs from the floor, taking away my source of power to push against him.

My arms wrapped around him just as a voice cut through my fog of fury. "Santos, I'm having Stephanie brought up to your room, and I'll check her out in a minute. We have a situation down here to settle, and I want her out of the fray." I went completely limp. Someone was bringing Stephanie to me, and I needed to watch over her. I had to assume she wasn't that injured if her care was being put off, so that assurance alone was enough to make me relax.

Ben noticed the fight had drained out of me. "You okay man?" He asked before letting go of me.

"Steph is being brought up here," I announced.

Ben looked around and then said, "Let me straighten your bed." Without a second glance at me he went over and made my bed, pulling the sheets tight and fluffing the pillow. Then he went over to the rolling table and picked up the little pitcher and commented, "I'll grab you some fresh ice water and a new cup." With that he walked out, understanding I didn't need him to keep me in this room. The knowledge that Steph was on her way made it impossible for me to move away.

The door swung open and one of the guys from the NY office came in with Steph. She was limp in his arms, obviously unconscious with a bloody gash running down her face. He raised an eyebrow at me, so I pointed to the newly made bed and he carried her over and laid her down before saying, "I'll be outside your door."

I nodded, unable to come up with anything else to say. Once the door closed I rushed to her side, desperate to see what was wrong with her. The cut on her face was still bleeding, but it didn't appear too deep. It was the kind of thing I knew Bobby would stitch up and it would be okay. I ran my hand through her hair and felt the beginning of a major goose egg, which explained her unconscious state.

I straightened her legs and put the pillow under neck a little better to support her head and then pulled her arms around to a more comfortable looking position. I couldn't stop touching her, so I ran my hands up and down her arms while watching the steady rise and fall of her chest. The door opened, but I didn't look up assuming it wasn't a threat since there was someone stationed outside the door.

Ben's voice cut through my distracted state. "Captain, I brought the doctor with me. He can take a look at her head and get it stitched up right."

I turned and saw John standing there with a metal tray filled with instruments and a massive bruise on his swollen jaw. Having him touch Stephanie seemed like a bad idea, as it gave him a chance to get revenge for the blow I'd leveled him with.

Ben must have sensed my hesitation because he said, "Dr. Walker says no body is better at putting in stitches to keep it from scaring, and he wants to help her."

I glanced at my surgeon and he nodded before saying, "I was out of line before. I'd prefer to think that you knocked a little sense into me instead of focusing on some of what I said. But I can promise you I won't hurt her, and no body is better at this than me, so if you'll let me take care of her, I'll do a good job."

I moved so that I was perched on the bed near her hips giving him access to her head. He began by running his hands over her head as I had, but when he found the goose egg he relaxed. "She may have a concussion, but the exterior swelling is a good sign. We always want to see it go this way, instead of manifesting as internal swelling." Then he put some liquid on a piece of gauze and began to wipe her cut to disinfect the five inch gash.

"I'm going to put in a number of small stitches in order to minimize scaring since this will be seen in such a prominent place on her face. It would be a shame to have such a beautiful woman carry a mark like this," he commented.

"I appreciate what you're doing, but you can keep the comments about her beauty to yourself. Scar or not, she'll always be Beautiful to me," I warned him. I felt like he was professional enough to take care of the cut, but I didn't want his commentary on how good looking she was. I'd hate to have to give him a matching bruise on the other side of his jaw.

I watched him work and could tell the ease with which he moved was proof of his competence, and I relaxed as he pulled the wound closed with careful, even stitches. As he worked he broke the silence with a question, "Why did you let her get involved with this?" There was no accusation in his tone, he was honestly curious.

I let out a long breath unsure of how to answer it. "I promised her when we got married that I wouldn't try to change who she was. She is headstrong and impulsive, and has an internal magnet for crazies and trouble. She came up with the idea, and to have forced her to stay up here with me would have been the same thing as locking her up in a cage. It would be forcing her to be somebody she isn't just because I wanted her safe."

"But isn't safe better than injured?" He pushed a little.

"You married?" I asked.

He shook his head no and kept working. "Imagine that you were and somebody came in here with horrible injuries, like mine. You knew you could save them, it's what you were trained to do, and only somebody with your skills could pull it off. Now throw in the possibility that there is a piece of shrapnel inside of them that could be explosive if mishandled, and because of that possible danger your wife demands you don't assist with the surgery."

"That's ridiculous though because if they were in that bad of shape, if I didn't do it, they would die. I get the cases no one else will take. Besides, there are things we could do to minimize the possibility that I'd get hurt from anything inside a patient," he tried to explain.

"But it could still be dangerous," I clarified for him.

"Sure, but if we took all the necessary precautions then the danger would be minimal," he thought he counter-argued as he tied off another stitch.

"That's irrelevant; your wife doesn't want you to do it. She has a bad feeling about it." I decided to throw in some of what Amy and Victor had been through.

"I'd assure her as best I could, but in the end, if it looked like there was any chance of me being able to save a patient, I'd do the surgery anyway," he admitted thoughtfully.

"That's why I let her get involved," I replied. He faced me, still confused. "She would have done it anyway, it's who she is. So I could have made a fight out of it and let her go in pissed and distracted, or I could accept that the willingness to walk bravely into danger was part of why I fell in love with her and support her as she tried to help me because it's what she wanted. When you love somebody it usually boils down to honoring what is important to them, and this was one of those things."

He was quietly considering what I said, so I decided to press my luck. "It's the same reason Dr. Walker eventually stepped back and let Victor go on that final mission. He had made up his mind to go anyway, so she could have allowed him to go distracted and mad, or she could love him and support him the best she could in those circumstances, and that's what she did. She had no choice."

He cut the final stitch, and I had to admit even from the distance away I'd never seen such a row of delicate stitches in my life. He was good at what he did. "He was mad at me when he left. I didn't want him to go."

"He knew you didn't want him to go because you saw the potential for danger, and you were looking out for your brother. He understood," I tried to put myself in Victor's position and figured that's how I would have felt.

"But that last day…we fought in his kitchen and I said some things…about Amy. He might have understood me not wanting him to go on his mission, but there's no way he'd forgive what I said about his wife." John confessed.

"You'd be surprised what people will forgive when they are half way around the world in combat. Being in a life or death situation has a way of reminding you of what's important. You can see through the shit with clarity, and I'd bet he was the same. He knew why you said whatever you said," I assured him, realizing it didn't matter if it was true or not. We'd all done things we were ashamed of, and John had carried the guilt of whatever insult he'd hurled at his sister-in-law for the years since his brother died. As much as he blamed her verbally, in truth he blamed himself.

John put a little goop on the cut and then handed me the tube. "Keep this on it several times a day. It will keep the skin soft and clean, which will help to minimize the appearance of a scar."

I took the medication offered to me and sat it on the rolling table. "Thank you for this," I said looking at her beautiful face.

"Just so you know, Amy could have done it just as well. She and I were in medical school together, which is how she ended up meeting my brother. I assumed she was going to go into surgery like me, but when we did our rotation in a mental hospital she worked with some really messed up vets that couldn't shake what they'd been through. It seemed like she had a gift for getting them to open up and talk to her. It was obvious to most of us around her that even though her hands were equally gifted, the guys needed her more, so she went into psychiatry as her specialty. I don't know that she chose it as much as it chose her. Ironically, I think if she'd gone into surgery instead she'd be better than me. There isn't anything that she doesn't do well when she puts her mind to it." His words weren't a shock to me.

"I'm glad you were here," I told him honestly. "I know first hand how good you are, so I trusted you with her."

My words seemed to humble him slightly and he looked away. "If I can help either of you, just let me know." He sputtered out nervously making his way to the door.

After he left I reached up put my hand over Stephanie's heart to reassure myself of its strong beat. That was when I felt the wire that she was still wearing. I checked the door to be sure it was still closed and then reached in to pull the wire out. It was still activated which meant every word that was said was just broadcast to anyone who was still listening. There was a large piece of me that hoped Dr. Walker caught the conversation.

I lost all sense of time and focused solely on Stephanie's still form. It was always unsettling when she was unconscious. I tried to convince myself that she was just sleeping, but my mind knew better and the lack of movement and conversation bothered me. My hands continued to reach out for her on their own and I stroked her hair and touched her face continually.

I jerked my head around when the door opened again and Bobby and Dr. Walker entered with their hands joined. I made a mental note to tell that to Steph. I had a feeling she'd like to know they were supporting each other.

Bobby sat down in the chair near the window and pulled his woman into his lap. She made a face as though she were worried about crushing him, and he shot her his best 'I'm a bad ass, don't question me' response expression. With a deep huffy breath she allowed him to pull her fully into his lap with her legs across the arms of the chair and her head on his shoulder. He rubbed his right hand up and down her back silently. They fit together and the sight of them together made me glad for them.

Finally, Dr. Walker picked up her head and started detailing what happened. "I'm guessing you heard everything."

I nodded that I had, so she picked up with the shuffling sounds. "Shea made a move to grab Johnson. He easily evaded it, but Stephanie tried to get in front of him anyway."

I picked up Steph's soft hand and pulled it to my lips to place a kiss on her knuckles. I wasn't the least bit surprised she would put herself in danger to save him after all he'd shared with her.

"I guess Shea figured his time was limited because instead of trying to get to Eric physically he pulled a gun out and aimed it at Stephanie." I was pretty sure my heart completely stopped beating for several seconds when she told me that part.

"Someone you guys brought in shot Shea in the shoulder and he, in turn, shot trying to get Stephanie, but Johnson tackled her just in time. She fell with him on top of her hitting her head on the cement bench behind them. That's where the cut came from and how she came to be unconscious." Steph's impressions were never wrong. She said Johnson was a good guy, and the fact that he saved her life was evidence of that.

"Eric took a slug at the collarbone in the process, but it didn't appear to hit anything vital and the bleeding was minimal considering where it was." I was glad she threw those details in because if I knew Stephanie she would ask as soon as she came to.

"Shea wasn't deterred by his injury because he lifted his gun once more, but before he could get it high enough to take a shot on Johnson or Stephanie the kid you called in that was in the wheelchair fired, bringing Shea down." Williams took out Shea. Son of a gun, I wouldn't have predicted that!

She stopped talking, so I wondered if she thought that was all I needed to know. "Where is Shea now?" I prompted.

Bobby picked up the story. "I took the bullets out of his arm and thigh, and gave him a rough patch job. He's being transferred to RangeMan in Trenton. I called Ranger, and he'll keep him there until we decide what the next step should be." There was enough of a pause that I interpreted it as I could decide if I wanted him to live to see another day, or we could try to get some information from him before turning him over for a long prison sentence. Personally, I felt like he'd seen enough sunsets, but I figured that wasn't really my call to make.

I turned away from Steph and focused on the two people filling up the chair beside me. "You two?" I was asking if they were alright.

"We're fine," Bobby replied as Dr. Walker pushed away from his chest slightly.

"I'm not entirely sure I am," she said causing Bobby's calm face to be replaced with one of extreme panic. Then she continued, "It seems your medic felt like when bullets started flying that I needed to be tackled to the ground, so I wasn't able to get to my gun to take care of Shea myself. I would have liked to have a chance to get off a round or two."

I couldn't help but laugh at her explanation. "Well, you'll have to come up with some way for him to make it up to you." I replied, loving the way she was handling all of this. I would never see her as just a shrink again. After hearing this story, her response, and what John told me, I really wanted her back in Trenton with us.

"I think you like a little more action that what you get to see here in the hospital," I ventured.

She grinned and I knew I was right. "Bobby, I think we should bring the good doc back to RangeMan with us. I think between the annual assessments, the injuries to the guys, and a little field work, she could be really happy there."

Bobby's whole face lit up as he turned to look at her. "He's got a point, and there's a VA not too far away, so you'd still be able to work there if you wanted."

She leaned back into him, not committing one way or the other. I didn't press it, but I really hoped she'd consider it. Knowing she liked to be in on the action made it seem like such a perfect fit.

Stephanie began to stir as we were each lost in our thoughts, so I turned back in order to be the first thing she saw when her eyes opened. It didn't take long before those gorgeous deep blues were looking at me. She ventured a partial smile and then asked, "Did we get anything from the files?"

All of us laughed at her question and how she refused to let her injury slow her down from following through on the questions that needed to be answered. "I think so," Dr. Walker answered from the comfort of Bobby's arms.

"I'm going to go back to my office and open up the files I copied and will print them out for us to go over. Maybe between all of us we can come up with some answers quicker." Despite her plan, I couldn't help but notice that she didn't make any move to get up.

"Can we have some breakfast first?" Stephanie asked, pushing up a little but grimacing and laying back down. I looked at her and raised an eyebrow, wondering how bad the pain was. "And maybe a little something for a headache," she admitted.

That got Dr. Walker moving, and she came over in full MD mode flashing a light in Steph's eyes and doing a few other assessments. "I'm pretty sure you have a concussion, so I'm going to want you to take it easy for a while and one of us will need to be with you around the clock for the next twenty-four hours."

Steph nodded, having been through the whole concussion thing before. Dr. Walker left and returned with a little white cup that contained two large pills for Steph to take. "It might make you sleepy, but it shouldn't make you loopy," she offered as clarification for the meds being offered. Steph took them willingly, to my great relief.

"How's Eric?" She asked as soon as she finished swallowing. I couldn't help but smile, knowing she was going to ask that question. Dr. Walker took her through everything just as she had me. Once Steph got all the answers she needed the doc turned to walk away. Just before she opened the door she spoke without turning around, "I heard your conversation with John."

I didn't respond, unsure if she expected me to. She continued, "Thank you. I think he understood a little for the first time."

With that, she opened the door and walked out. I got the feeling it had been a long time since anyone stood up for her, and she wasn't sure how to respond to it. Bobby stood up right after she left and came over to kiss Steph's head. I noticed he chanced a look at her stitches too and smiled his approval. When he stood up and looked at me, he put his hand on the back of his neck as though he were stumped about what to say.

"I told you yesterday that I thought she was a good woman. That ain't changed," I offered as the explanation for why I talked to John.

He glanced back at Steph and then to the door and let a partial smile break out over his face. "I never thought I'd see the day when we were both like this."

"Like what?" Stephanie asked, unable to stop herself.

"Whipped?" Bobby replied as more of a question than an answer.

"I think the more correct term is happy," Steph corrected him, reaching out for my hand.

Bobby looked down at her and said, "As usual, I think you're right Bomber." I couldn't help but notice that she smiled when Bobby called her by the nickname she usually hated.

After he left and we were alone once more I touched the side of her face and she shut her eyes. "I'm so sorry you went through that for me."

Her eyes opened so quickly I didn't even see the movement in her lids. "I'm not. That was nothing compared to what you've been through, and if it allows us to have a normal life when we get home then it was totally worth it."

"But you could have been shot, and how could I have lived with that?" I found myself being a little more honest than I intended to be.

"You couldn't," she replied as she sat up, proving how well she knew me. "Just like I couldn't have lived with the idea of knowing I could help get the answers we need and not doing anything about it. We'd both stop at nothing to keep what we have."

That was a hundred percent true. "I couldn't handle it if I ever got the news that you weren't with me. I'm not strong enough to keep going without you." I admitted, hugging her to me and burying my face in her hair. "I couldn't move on if something happened to you."

She interrupted me so that I didn't embarrass myself too much with my constant rambling. "Nothing happened. I'm here, you're here, and we've got a long future ahead of us to drive each other crazy with worry."

Strangely enough, the idea of being worried about her for years to come was a comforting thought. "Do you promise?" I asked.

"I promised it the day we got married, and I mean it even more today," she assured me, echoing similar words to my own from a week ago.

We were still clinging to each other when the door opened and Bobby and Dr. Walker came in with a stack of paper. Since we hadn't moved, despite their entrance, Bobby finally cleared his throat and said, "If you guys can pull apart long enough to do a little work, then I'll hang a hat on the door when we leave."

I cracked up at his reference and pulled back a little to see that Steph had no idea what he was talking about. Although seeing her face and thinking about how relieved I was to know she was alright made the idea of having a cap on my door pretty damned appealing right now.

I wanted to ease the confusion on her face, so I leaned in and said, "If a cap is on the door no one will come in, and we'll have the opportunity to open that book from Grandma Mazur."

Her face turned bright red, but the smile on her face let me know she was game. I knew we needed to concentrate on the information Steph had endangered herself to get, but suddenly all I could think about was being alone with her.

'Focus soldier,' I barked out in my head but the throbbing between my legs told me the wrong soldier was obeying that command.


	16. A Little Bonding

_JE deserves all the credit for the creation of the Plum Universe I'm playing in._

_Fredda (rangergirl1234) you are a wonderful beta and I am so grateful for the amount of time you spend cleaning up my work. _

_Amy (beancounter74) thank you so much for allowing me to use you as the basis of Dr. Amy Walker. _

**Chapter 16 – A Little Bonding**

"My head hurts," Steph sighed, tossing her papers into her lap.

"It's supposed to hurt, you have a concussion," Bobby replied with a smile.

"Not from the knot, from reading this shit and still not coming up with any answers," she clarified.

"Do you think there is really anything here for us to find?" I asked, uncertain if we'd ever get to the bottom of why Stewart wanted to control me.

Dr. Walker's fingers were tracing her scar when she spoke. "I would love to have some details on the two that weren't requested by anyone."

Steph got up from where she'd been sitting beside me, stretched her back, and walked to the door. She had a muted conversation with the guy stationed there and then returned to the bed.

I raised an eyebrow hoping she'd clue us in. "He's going to have someone bring us a laptop with all the RangeMan search engines on it. Maybe I can figure out who those people were since the manifests are pretty blank and none of us recognize the names."

"While we're waiting on that, I think some lunch might be in order," Bobby suggested as he stood and stretched.

"I need to check with my office to see if there is anything that needs my attention, but I'll be back later to see what kind of progress you guys have made," Dr. Walker announced. She started to walk out, but Bobby grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to him. I watched, fascinated, as he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly to his chest. I understood the need completely. He was assuring himself that she was alright after what went down this morning.

Stephanie took my hand in hers, as though she completely understood the need herself. That was when I looked at our joined hands and said, "You don't have a wedding ring."

"Yes I do," she replied pointing to a simple thin gold band on her left hand's ring finger.

"That doesn't count. I want everybody that enters a room to be able to look at your hand and see that you're mine," I clarified, picturing a big diamond that would catch the light on even the darkest days.

"You don't want me to have a ring, you want me to have your name tattooed across my forehead," she laughed.

I pretended to be considering it and finally shook my head no. "I think a diamond and a bigger wedding band would do it."

"I told you when we were married, I didn't need a ring. I got you, and that was good enough for me," she reminded me.

"But I want to give you things. I mean, I've never had someone that I wanted to spoil, and the idea of taking you shopping and getting you whatever you want makes me happy," I tried explaining.

"I've never said no to a shopping trip, but you have to remember my tastes are pretty easy to please. I'm not a frills and big bling kind of girl," she pointed out, reminding me of one of the reasons I loved her.

"Will you let me get you a real engagement ring and wedding band?" I asked, feeling the need to get a proper ring on her finger.

She slowly nodded yes. "If it means that much to you, then okay, but please remember what I do for a living. I don't want a big rock getting in the way of the grip on my gun."

I shut my eyes and took a deep breath through my nose. "Les, are you alright?" She asked, slightly panicked.

"You're carrying your gun?" I asked with an unsteady breath.

"Yes, I promised you I would, so I've been going to the range three times a week and shooting with Hector. He's been a great teacher, and I'm getting good enough that I'm comfortable carrying. I still don't actually _want_ to use it, but at least I don't mind having it on me." She explained giving me something to play with.

"Where exactly is it on you?" I questioned, opening my eyes marginally to see a lovely light pink paint her cheeks.

Then her resolve seemed to harden, and I could tell she was ready to play along. "Well, it depends on what I'm wearing. If I'm in jeans or pants, I might have one in an ankle holster, plus one at my waist, either on my belt or at the back of my waist."

"What if you're in a dress?" I asked, placing my hand on her knee.

She put her hand on mine and pulled my palm further up her thigh. "Then I have a great black thigh holster that I strap on and put my Glock in so that it's close enough to me to keep the grip warm. And every time I take a step I can feel the band that's wrapped around my thigh."

"Good Lord," I whispered rubbing circles on her inner thigh suddenly envying her gun. "Do you have one on you now?"

She shook her head no, and I couldn't hide my disappointment quickly enough. "It was in my purse since I decided to wear clothes that were a little tighter and more revealing to keep Johnson distracted. Of course that turned out to be a waste." She added the last bit with a roll of her eyes.

I glanced at her snug shirt perfectly outlining her breasts and growled, "Not a waste for me." When she giggled I leaned into her a little more and spun her around so that she was cradled in my arms. When I looked in her eyes all hint of joking was gone. Her hand moved up my arm and across my shoulder before tracing my jaw. I pulled her higher so that our faces were closer.

"You are so beautiful," I confessed.

"You are completely biased," she countered. "I have a big lump on the side of my head and a face full of stitches."

"Doesn't matter to me," I assured her. "That's not what makes you beautiful."

Her eyes narrowed a little before she spoke. "You aren't joking."

"No, I couldn't be more serious. I have always thought you were a real stunner for the eyes, but it was your heart that I fell in love with. I've never seen a person that looks at the world the way you do. It's your approach to life and your heart for everybody you meet that is so beautiful to me. Don't get me wrong, I love your face, but there is so much more to you than that."

As soon as my mouth finished moving she used a grip on my shoulders to lift herself the rest of the way and kiss me. It wasn't a hungry, sexual kiss. Her mouth was tender and soft as it molded to mine. When her tongue traced my bottom lip my mouth opened and she pushed in, filling me with the sweet taste of her. When she moved one hand into my hair and grabbed a tight fistful I heard a loud moan and realized it hadn't come from either one of us. We broke apart and looked over in the direction of the sound and saw Dr. Walker pressed up against the wall with Bobby between her legs, giving her neck some serious attention while his right hand was working its way up her fatigue's top.

Surprisingly, Steph didn't turn away. Instead, she stage whispered, "I never thought of myself as a fan of porn, but as far as sex as live theatre goes, this is totally hot."

I muted my laugh by pressing my lips into her hair. When Steph spoke again I could feel my body responding, "This reminds me of my college days when my roommate and I both had guys in our dorm after curfew. There is something about getting it on with the lights off, and knowing there is someone else doing the same thing, that makes the whole thing even more erotic."

If she didn't shut up soon I was in serious danger of needing a new pair of sweat pants. When she reached across my lap to grab the light controller attached to the rail of the bed I could feel the pulsing begin between my legs. I had done pretty much everything that could be done sexually, so I felt confident that I'd seen and done it all. In fact, what Steph was describing I'd participated in numerous times. But for some reason I'd always thought of her as being a straight up white girl from the Burg. I figured her sexual horizons were pretty limited, and it didn't matter to me. The way I loved Stephanie didn't require all kinds of weird shit in the bedroom to keep things alive. I knew the fire between us wasn't going to go out.

Even with that knowledge, when she hit the clicker and the lights all went out except for a faint glow from the bathroom, I pulled her to me quickly, getting a shriek of surprise at the sudden movement. "You little tease," I spoke in her ear in a deep gravely voice.

She shook her head and replied, "It's only teasing if you aren't serious about following through."

Sweet God in Heaven! This was now not only the woman of my evening dreams, but the star of a good number of my wet dreams too. She straddled me in the bed, and I was grateful for my new cast that allowed my leg to be at a ninety degree angle to my torso so that this was possible. My hands rested on her hips and then slid back to her ass. Hmm, she had the most luscious ass I'd ever felt. It was perfectly rounded with enough fullness that my hands were filled by her. I squeezed slightly and was rewarded as she began to grind against me slowly pushing her core against my erection.

There was a low moan by the wall and I knew whatever Dr. Walker had just done had been a big hit with Bobby. He tended to be quiet, so anything that got an audible response from him must be amazing on his specter scale. I figured I wouldn't be into something like this with Stephanie. She was my wife, and I wanted to keep her protected and everything between us in the bedroom private. But the more she moved against me, the less coherent thoughts I could keep in my head.

I slipped my hands underneath her t-shirt and felt the smooth silky skin underneath. My hands couldn't get enough of her, so I let them roam at will which only encouraged her to keep pressing her hot body against mine. Who needed the book from Grandma Mazur? If we kept this up much longer, I was going to tear her clothes off to get myself inside her. To hell with the pain of working around the cast.

Just as Steph's hand made it to the waist of my sweatpants, the door to the room swung open and a very unaware guy from the New York office walked in with a laptop in a bag. It took him a minute to realize what was going on and when he did, he sat the laptop down on the counter and turned around to put his back to us all, trying to apologize but mucking it up since he was unable to get out a full sentence. Finally, I took a little pity on him and said, "Thanks for dropping it off. That will be all."

"Thank you, sir," he responded in true military style, showing me if nothing else, defaulting to military protocol always worked with the guys from work.

When the door closed and the darkness surrounded us all again there was a brief moment of silence before Dr. Walker and Stephanie both began to laugh aloud. Hearing them respond to what could have been an awkward moment cracked me and Brown up as well.

"What are we, eighteen again?" Dr. Walker finally asked.

Steph found the lights on the control at my bed and turned them up a little while responding to the doc's question by saying to me, "See, I told you I wasn't the only person that had done something like that in college."

I grinned at her and then laughed when Dr. Walker spoke up once more, "Please, Steph, you and I need to talk. I think we may be a lot more alike than I first thought."

Stephanie twisted around to face my shrink and said, "Come back to Trenton with us, and I'm pretty sure we could be an unstoppable duo."

Bobby was grinning at the fact that now we were all pressuring her to leave New York and come to Jersey with us. He whispered something in her ear that made her blush slightly before she kissed his cheek and pushed him back a little to step toward the door.

"I think I better check in with my office to see if anything else has happened today that might need my attention." There was a little pause before she looked at Bobby with a seductive smile and added, "I'll be in my office looking over messages and e-mails…all alone."

She left right after saying that and he stood there watching the door. I wondered how long it would take him to get the message that she wasn't telling him to stay away; she was trying to lure him in there with her for a little time without the possibility of interruption.

"Did she…" Bobby started but cut himself off. "I mean, alone, as in…" he was trying to piece it together.

Steph took pity on him and said, "I think a five minute head start is enough for her to know if there were any real emergencies. If you run by the cafeteria and pick up something to eat, you'd have a reason to knock on her door. I'm pretty sure she wants you to follow her."

"Right," Bobby said obviously taking Steph's advice to heart. He pushed away from the wall where he'd been leaning and walked out.

Unfortunately, before I could begin to work my Santos charm Stephanie's eyes fell on the bag with the laptop and I knew her focus had just been captured. Stephanie loved digging through a mystery, and despite the fact she wanted me, she wanted these questions answered even more. "How about I get us something to eat from down the hall, and you boot that up and start digging?"

"You don't mind?" She asked, as though it were a great burden on my part to have her helping me.

I moved to the edge of the bed to stand up. "I want you to find the answers to any questions spinning in your head so that the next time we're alone I'll know that I have your undivided attention." The words were true, but my body was screaming that it needed to happen soon or the color of my balls might be hitting an indigo hue soon.

Her eyes fell to my crotch and then her face blushed once more. "I'll type fast," she assured me, biting her bottom lip in a sexy innocent way.

I grabbed a single crutch to use more as a cane and began to make my way to the cafeteria.

Brown was in line just ahead of me and we started talking. "It's been years since we've done something like that together." He said casually, glancing at me from the corner of his eyes.

I looked at the floor and said, "Yea," then in a moment of honesty I added, "I couldn't believe it when Stephanie shut out the lights and climbed on top of me."

"Same here," he agreed. "I figured when Amy knew what you two were doing, it would cool her jets and we'd head out, but when I tried to back up she came after me."

There was silence as we shuffled toward the front of the line. Bobby was the one who summed it up, "I think we've got ourselves a couple of wild women."

"I think the combination of the two of them together is enough to keep me up at night," I confessed, wondering which one would be considered the bad influence.

Bobby's face fell as he was obviously considering the same question. "You don't think they'd get into trouble do you?" My naive friend questioned.

I clapped him on the shoulder and pointed that the lady behind the counter was ready to help him and just laughed. I was pretty sure the two of them together would be nothing but trouble.

I carried the ham and cheese sandwiches and potato chips on a tray, with the two bottles of coke lying down to keep them from tipping over. I made my way slowly down the hall trying to manage the tray and my crutch with an unsteady hobble.

Marcus saw me and came to relieve the burden from my hands. "I would have brought you some food," he reminded me.

"I know, but this is for Stephanie too," I told him, wanting to feel like I was providing for my wife in some small way.

He stopped walking causing me to look at him closely. "She's something else," he admitted. "This morning, she didn't hesitate at all to jump between that kid from DC and Shea. It's the same thing when you're asleep and you start to stir. She isn't the least bit afraid of staying by your side and calming you down before it gets out of hand. I've never seen a woman with that kind of courage."

"She is pretty amazing," I admitted honestly.

"She have a sister?" He asked, making a joke for the second time in the weeks I'd known him.

"Yea, but she couldn't be less like her." I had to burst his bubble on that one.

"That's a shame," Marcus replied with a smile.

"Why did Dr. Walker insist on you being there this morning?" I asked him as we approached the door to my room.

He shrugged and looked down, like he was embarrassed, but then he seemed to make up his mind to tell me anyway. "I owe her my life. When I came here I was falling apart because of some bad shit I'd been through on my last tour. The pictures in my head wouldn't go away, and I wasn't myself. She stayed by my side, refusing to give up on me until I started to come around, then she helped me get my life back together. I felt like she'd saved me the same as if she'd stepped in front of a bullet with my name on it. Because of that, whenever she's in danger, I insist on being around in case she ever needs somebody to return the favor."

I could totally understand that. Ranger saved my life on a mission once, and I felt that I owed him out of a sense of honor that binds people together when they share a life and death moment like that.

"Your man beat me to it though when the bullets started flying. He did right by her." Marcus seemed to respect Bobby's instinct to protect the doc.

"Yea, he seems to like her a lot. He's a good man," I assured him, not wanting any trouble for Bobby as he put the moves on a woman all the guys around here seemed to respect.

"He better be. She's happy for the first time in a long time, and I'd hate to think that somebody took that away from her," Marcus said not bothering to hide the threat in his voice if Bobby hurt her.

"I'll be sure he understands how you feel, but you don't need to worry about my man. He's got it bad for her," I reported.

"He's a medic?" Marcus asked.

"Best I've ever seen in the Rangers," I answered.

Marcus smiled, "Yea, that would work." He opened the door for me to walk in, repeating himself, "That would work real nice."

I made a mental note to let Bobby know he was in with her guys. Something told me that was an important step in fully capturing the good doc's heart.

Steph didn't even look up when we walked in, and her brow was furrowed in deep thought. She was looking between her laptop and the scattering of papers on the bed, her lap, and the rolling table. It was like a paper factory had exploded on my bed. Marcus was temporarily stunned about the mess. I took the tray from him and said, "I said she was amazing, I didn't say she was a neat freak."

"True," he agreed, letting himself out.

I sat the food on the only empty place on the bed and asked, "Are you ready to share?" I asked quietly, not wanting to interrupt if she was on a roll.

She turned the laptop around, and it had two windows open side by side with pictures of people I hadn't seen in years. "Do you know who these men are?" She asked confidently, as though she already knew the answer.

"Yea," I answered her hesitantly. "But if what you need to tell me has anything to do with those two guys, then I think we're going to need Ranger in on that conversation."

"Then it looks like you're going home," she replied flatly.

I had been looking forward to getting out of the hospital and taking Stephanie back to our condo to begin our life together. But knowing those two faces were somehow the cause for our leaving now made me want to lock her in my apartment at Haywood, refusing to let either one of us out. We may have eliminated Shea as a threat, but he was nothing compared to the hell these two could rain down.

"When do we leave?" I asked with my voice laced with concern.

Before Steph could respond Bobby and Dr. Walker came in. I wasn't so distracted by the faces on the screen that I didn't notice the new hickey peeking out from Dr. Walker's collar and the very satisfied grin my friend was sporting.

Steph hadn't spun the screen back to face her, so the pictures were still pointed my direction.

Bobby's eyes landed on it and the satisfaction that had been so obvious fell immediately. "Tell me whatever is going on doesn't involve those two."

"I think it directly involves them," Stephanie responded.

"Shit, we're going to need some major backup," he replied.

"Road trip?" Dr. Walker asked cautiously.

Bobby looked between the screen and his woman and then said, "I think it's time for you to see where we're from."

"It's Friday. Are we talking a weekend road trip or an indefinitely leave of absence?" She pushed.

Bobby looked at the laptop once more and then sighed, "You're going to need a big suitcase."


	17. The Best Laid Plans

_The characters below are the creation of JE. _

_Fredda (Rangergirl1234) thank you so much for rushing through this chapter for me. You are the fastest beta ever!_

_Amy (beancounter74) I can't thank you enough for being the inspiration for Dr. Amy Walker, and for being such a great sounding board when I need to grouse and vent._

**Chapter 17 – The Best Laid Plans**

The ride to Trenton from New York was rather uneventful. Bobby drove the whole way with me riding shotgun so that I could keep my leg stretched out a little better. Dr. Walker and Stephanie rode in the back and kept varying the volume level of their discussion, making me nervous every time they dropped to a whisper and then burst out laughing.

The new brace on my leg Jack put on me this morning allowed me the proper support while moving around in order to protect the bones as they continued to knit together, while giving me the ability to take it off when laying down to begin bending the knee before the lack of mobility on the replacement became an issue. The first time he bent it to test the motion I felt like someone had stabbed me with an ice pick. I knew Bobby was more than qualified to do the rehab work at Haywood, but I was truly not looking forward to a repeat of that agony any time soon.

When we pulled into the garage at RangeMan, I couldn't believe I was back here. The day I left I took a long look at the place that I had enjoyed living the most and assumed it would be my last look at home. Stephanie had already gotten out and opened my door and was looking at me strangely by the time I focused my attention back to the present. As if she understood what I was thinking, she leaned into the Navigator and kissed me soundly. "Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?" I asked her as she pulled back.

With a smile she explained, "You were looking a little dazed there, and I figured you were feeling like this was some sort of dream. Since I felt the same way I thought we could both use some proof that this was real. You're really home."

I eased my leg out and stood up testing the feel of the weight on it after so much time still in the truck. It was sore, but definitely manageable. Once I was sure it was going to hold me I held out my arms and Stephanie hugged me tightly. "Being welcomed home by you was worth the hell of getting back here."

She laughed a little and then corrected me. "That's not your welcome home, soldier. I'll give that to you tonight when we finally get a little uninterrupted time alone."

Oh shit, this woman was going to be the death of me. Either I'd have a heart attack from the exertion of keeping up with her tonight, or the constant interruption in regular blood flow was going to make me pass out at some point. She moved to my injured side, allowing me to sling an arm over her shoulder to keep me steady as I hobbled my way to the elevator. Before we could get there, the doors opened revealing a wall of guys. Hal, Cal, Tank, Vince and Ram all stepped out and formed a line, shoulder to shoulder, and then saluted me.

We rarely did anything ceremonial here, keeping the spirit of the military code, but not the formality of it. I knew this was nothing about recognizing an officer, but it was a way of honoring what I had been called on to do, and lived through.

Before I could get too choked up I tried to make light of the symbolism of their salute and said, "At ease men. If I have to salute you back I'm liable to list too much to the side."

They dropped their arms and I was the recipient of five one armed man hugs. Bobby yelled, "If you guys are ready to quit acting like girls with a crush and be helpful, there are some suitcases here you can bring up."

There were some rumbling complaints but they went over to the SUV to help cart up the luggage anyway. "I guess I'm going to need to stay here for a little while," I admitted to Steph as they walked away to be introduced to Dr. Walker, who was standing very close to Bobby. "At least until I can handle stairs a little better."

"As long as there is room in your bed for me too, I don't care where we stay," she responded with apparent honesty.

"It's a queen, so I'm sure there's room, but I'm suddenly wishing it was a twin instead to keep you closer to me all night," I teased her with a flirty wiggle of my eyebrows.

She laughed and replied, "I have a feeling I'll be as close as I can get all night anyway, so the size of the bed probably doesn't matter."

The guys were hauling the cases up the stairs, allowing us to take the elevator alone. As soon as the doors closed, Dr. Walker turned to Steph and said, "I can see what you mean now. They are fascinating."

Bobby and I looked between our women trying to figure out what in the hell that was supposed to mean. Neither of them seemed inclined to clue us in, and the doors opened on five before I could try applying any pressure to my now blushing bride for some details.

We were greeted by a few of the guys that hadn't come down to the garage, but before the well wishes could get out of hand a hush came over the guys letting us all know Ranger's office door had just opened.

Sure enough my cousin came around the corner and looked at us, allowing a hint of surprise to cross his face at the image of Bobby's hand on Dr. Walker's back. The shock softened to affection when he looked at Stephanie. I used all my self control to keep from reacting to that. Before I had to stretch myself too much to behave, Ranger looked at me. His face went from blank to relief and he took the few steps to me quickly and hugged me tightly, slapping his palm on my back several times.

"It's good to have you home, cuz," he commented quietly before stepping away to comment louder. "I was afraid I wouldn't get the chance to call you to the mats for growing our family without giving me a chance to congratulate you." When he stepped back I realized what a loaded sentence that was. He had both admitted to being glad I was home safely and given his blessing to my marriage to Stephanie in front of the guys.

Then he held out his right arm and said, "Babe," causing Stephanie to crush herself to his side in a hug. He kissed the top of her head and told her, "I hope you know what you're doing, tying yourself to this man."

"I do," she replied a little on the quiet side, as though she were unsure of why he was being so great about our secret marriage.

"In that case, welcome to the family. If you need some back up when he takes you to meet Abuela Rosa to explain why she didn't get to see him married in the church, then I'm your man." He joked with her.

I spoke up with a quick thank you, wanting any help I could get in dealing with our shared grandmother. Ranger looked up with a rare mischievous smile on his face and said, "I said I'd back _Stephanie_ up. You, cuz, are on your own with Abuela."

I took a hobble forward, complaining that Ranger was cruel man. Stephanie immediately left his side and came back to level me off in my attempt to move to the conference room. When we stepped in, I was glad to see a laptop and projector was already set up. The four of us sat on one side of the table and Ranger sat on the other side.

After Bobby shut the door Ranger shifted back into the leader we needed him to be and said, "Alright, I'm assuming something big is going on to have brought you back before your official discharge and for you to bring me back up here from Miami. What the hell went down over there?"

Then he looked at Dr. Walker as though asking why she was with us. "Ranger, this is Dr. Amy Walker. US Army Major, shrink, completely cleared with federal security, and the person most responsible for me being here at all right now."

That seemed good enough for him as he gave her a nod of his head, accepting everything I'd tried to roll into one introduction. With that out of the way I set about bringing Ranger up to speed with all that happened in Afghanistan, my dreams upon my return, and what we'd learned from Shea and Johnson a couple of days ago.

Before I could even ask, Ranger gave the answer I wanted. "He hasn't volunteered anything yet, but now that I have the whole story I know how to change tactics to get whatever intel he might have."

"Do you think he'll crack?" Stephanie asked, obviously worried.

Dr. Walker spoke up first, "Yea, he'll crack."

Ranger nearly pulled a muscle swinging his head around in surprise. Dr. Walker must have sensed his shock at her confidence. "Men like him, with something so obvious to prove to the world, always crack eventually. If the pain of torture doesn't get them, their own need to be recognized as superior to everyone around them will be their downfall."

Ranger nodded marginally, agreeing with her assessment. Bobby put his hand on her forearm and said, "Damn Baby, you ever do any profiling?"

She looked down and turned slightly red, which was all the affirmation we needed. I should have known she'd have some serious criminal profiling skills with everything else she understood about the human mind. The possibilities of how she could fit in here were growing the longer I knew her.

Having gotten him up to date through the meeting with Johnson the day before yesterday, Stephanie then pulled the lap top toward her and started bringing up information from a flash drive she had in her pocket. She brought up the listing of my missions and highlighted the two with no supporting agency. Ranger agreed that was odd, but not unheard of.

Then she highlighted the names of the targets on those two missions and started connecting the dots. "The first mission, in 2009, was to eliminate a Manuel Hernandez. I searched everyway possible but couldn't come up with any illegal activities, groups that wanted him dead, or any shady associations. He was just a wealthy, well connected businessman. The next time Les went on an unsupported mission was in 2010 to take out Juan Hernandez. He was the brother of Manuel. He had some shady dealings with drugs and women in Columbia, but he didn't appear to be on any radars within this country."

We were all hanging on every word as she tried to explain her thought process to this point. "So I started branching out and found some articles from the local papers when Manuel's body was found after he'd been taken down. It said he was being mourned by his nephews Mateo and Miguel. Then Juan's obituary mentioned their names too. Since they were the only shared family I could find, I pulled up their information and found rap sheets that would definitely have explained them being on a mission manifest, yet no one seems to be ordering them to be targets of a mission. I figured the reason Manuel and Juan were taken out was because of their nephews, but I couldn't prove it."

Finally, she pulled up a jpg file she'd saved on the drive and said, "Then I found this picture in a local paper." It was slightly grainy but undeniably it was my handler Stewart with Mateo and Miguel Hernandez.

"When was that photo taken?" Ranger asked, leaning forward slightly to take it all in better.

"Six months ago," she replied, double checking the date below the photo. "I didn't know what the connection was, but Stewart allowed those two to live while eliminating their family. He had to know they were dangerous, yet he was meeting with them personally. Something about it just set off my spidey sense."

Ranger gave Steph an indulgent smile like a father would his favorite child at her reference to her gut feeling that this was the missing key to why I had been targeted. He was wise enough to not question her though because after seeing how she came to her conclusion, it was hard to argue the facts any other way.

Bobby was the next one to speak. "So why is Stewart gunning for Lester while letting to lowlifes like the Hernandez brothers live?"

Steph looked at Bobby and asked, "How do you know them anyway? When I showed you the pictures at the VA, both of you practically paled."

Bobby looked at me, and I looked at Ranger. It was like an ocular version of hot potato. Finally, Ranger rubbed his hand over his face and then spoke, "The core team's last mission together was to gather intel on those two men. While we were getting the damning information on them in Columbia, I put a call into our military contact and asked if they wanted us to take them out since we were close enough to do it and had proof they were trying to undermine the US government. He got back to me the next day and forbid us to move in, pulling us home instead. That was the last mission the four of us ran together. After that, we each got a different handler. We figured it was strange, but since our contracts ended at different times and we had jointly decided not to resign, we let it go."

"Then why is Lester the only one being targeted?" Steph asked the obvious question.

There was silence for a few seconds and then Ranger spoke up. "To get the final piece of evidence against them Lester had to use his skills on a woman. Do you remember her name?" He asked me.

If I could have the floor open up and swallow me whole, now would have been an ideal time for it. Basically, my boss just told my wife that I'd seduced a woman to get information out of her, and now he wanted details about it so that Stephanie could run a search on her. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place.

"Maria," I said before swallowing hard and braving a glance at Stephanie. "Maria Hernandez."

Steph's fingers started banging away, opening and closing search engines faster than my eyes could focus on them. Finally, she pulled up an article and smacked her hand down on the table. I figured she was about to rip into me for sleeping with Maria for information. When she exclaimed, "Son of a bitch," I gripped the arm rest hoping I'd have the balls to stay put and take the ass kicking she had every right to hand out.

"Babe?" Ranger asked, apparently ready for her to start ripping me a new one.

Instead Stephanie used the pointer of the mouse to highlight a couple of sentences, and we all realized what she'd found. In a Columbian version of a wedding announcement the engagement of the late Manuel Hernandez' daughter Maria was being celebrated at the family estate to an American businessman named Herbert Stewart. The party was being thrown by her cousins Mateo and Miguel.

"What's the date on that announcement?" Ranger asked.

Steph clicked a few more times before saying, "Last November."

"So three years ago we all went in and gather information about the two nephews. Then I'm sent in to take out their Uncle and the father of Maria. A couple of years later, I'm called on to take out the other Uncle and suddenly my handler is engaged to the daughter of my target. I get why the missions are too entwined to be coincidence, but why would Stewart want to take me out because of them?" I asked anyone that might have a clue.

Dr. Walker asked, "The teams that went in with you to take out Manuel and Juan…were they the same guys?"

I had to think back but was able to pull it together eventually, "No, they were different."

"So the only common thread between the entire Hernandez family and the US involvement was you," she summed up. "And you also slept with Stewart's fiancé."

I winced as she pointed out that little tidbit, hoping that by some miracle Steph hadn't put the clues together about how I got the information from Maria about her cousins. I ventured a quick glance at Steph and she was busy typing away looking for something, so I looked back at Dr. Walker and replied, "Yea, I guess that's right."

She shrugged and said, "I've heard of guys being knocked off for less. And if he's got a little god complex half as big as the one Shea is sporting, then he's probably been gunning for you for a while lately. Did you notice anything about the last few missions you'd been called for? Were they increasing in complexity?"

I thought back over it and had to admit they were. It was a big part of why I was so ready to get the hell out of my contract. I figured I was just getting too old for this shit, but what if it was just Stewart's fool hearted attempt to kill me off in a way that seemed legitimate?

Steph was looking at me, waiting for an answer, which meant even though she looked preoccupied, she was clearly capable of listening and typing at the same time. I guess I hadn't escaped the whole seduction for intel comment after all. She was probably busy coming up with ways to make me pay for the sins of my past. Not that I blamed her, but that isn't how I'd hoped our first night home would go.

I realized people were staring at me and my silent routine was only building the tension, so I gave them the answer they were apparently waiting for. "I guess they have been getting more dangerous, but you have to understand that everything we do on those missions is dangerous, so it didn't seem that odd to me."

Ranger was the first one to speak up and asked, "What, did you think you were just getting old?"

Damn, I didn't want to answer that.

Dr. Walker jumped in and brought us all back to the point. "So we know who is after you, and we probably have a bead on why. It's a safe assumption that other than the slim possibility of the Hernandez brothers, no one else is aware of why he wants you out of the picture. The only remaining question is what do you do about Stewart?"

Bobby spoke up. "Only one thing to do about Stewart." He didn't clarify, but it was obvious he meant we needed to help Stewart end his career as a handler and make Maria a widow before her wedding occurred.

Stephanie stopped typing and said, "There might be another way and you could kill two birds with one stone."

Ranger looked at her and asked, "And what would that be?"

"Anyway you could get information to the Hernandez brothers that makes it look like Stewart was marrying their cousin just to get closer to them to take them down or control them in some way? You could make it look like he was after them and was just using her as a pawn. It might piss them off enough that they would take matters into their own hands and eliminate Stewart and back off from you guys since they'd know who was the cause of the their Uncles' deaths."

That had both brilliant plan and numerous possibilities to get screwed up written all over it. "How would you get the info to them?" Dr. Walker asked, apparently seeing the merit of the plan.

Ranger broke the silence and said, "We've still got contacts in the area that owe us. If we could pull together enough damning information, we could get it to them. The problem would be finding out if they already knew it or if they were going to take action because of it."

"Get the info to Maria. I have a feeling she has no clue what her future husband has done and is capable of. Perhaps she would make the best conduit of information to her cousins. They are much more likely to act to defend her honor than their own." Dr. Walker suggested.

Ranger was clearly impressed with the plan as he turned to Stephanie and asked, "Can you pull enough of this together to connect the dots for Maria so that if we get the intel to her she will see Stewart for what he really is?"

"Sure, I can even type it out to clearly detail it and include all the pictures and manifests as evidence," Steph replied.

"How will we get it to her?" Bobby asked, pointing out the one weak area of our plan.

Steph kept typing and then got an evil smile. "It appears Miss Hernandez is in New York for a couple of months. Her world travels are published on her website as a Columbian debutant of sorts. There is a formal function tomorrow night. If we could get somebody in there to give her the info, that might be our best window of opportunity."

"If you can pull this together and make the case clear enough to hook her emotions, then I'll arrange for its delivery personally tomorrow night," Ranger said to Steph.

Dr. Walker spoke up. "I'll help you get the right tone in what we present to be sure we're pulling the right response from her."

Bobby and I looked at each other. As great as this sounded, what it meant was that while everyone else was working, we were basically out of the loop with nothing to do. We had our women in the office, our private apartments in the building, and no way to get them exactly where we wanted them.

"We may as well head downstairs and start the PT on your knee," he said reluctantly.

I couldn't offer any argument about why now wasn't a good time, so I manned up and stood to hobble out after him. At least the pain that I knew would be coming in my knee would help to keep my mind off any other physical demands my body might have had in mind for later. Apparently, tonight wasn't going to provide the welcome home I'd hoped for after all.

Just as I made it to the door Steph called my name, causing me to turn my head to see her smiling that devilish grin I loved so much. "Don't do too much down there. I'll only need a couple hours to finish this up, and then I intend to finish your workout myself."

I flashed her what I hoped was a smile of understanding and followed Bobby down to the gym. Bring on the pain, man. I had something to keep me distracted enough that I could all but guarantee I wouldn't feel a thing.


	18. Beer and Girl Talk

_JE created the universe below that I've been playing in._

_Fredda (Rangergirl1234) thank you for working so hard as the beta on this story._

_Amy (beancounter74) I hope you enjoy the girl talk below. Somehow I could so see us having a conversation like this._

**Chapter 18 – Beer and Girl Talk **

I was exhausted, and despite trying to stay awake and wait for Steph to come down to the apartment, I eventually had to stretch out in the bed to keep my leg from swelling after the torture disguised as physical therapy Bobby put me through. He'd gotten called out when a take down went bad, and a skip and Bones needed patching up. He left his partially finished beer, leaving a sweat ring on the coffee table and went out grumbling that fate was obviously opposed to letting him spend the night with Amy here in Haywood.

I thought I'd heard the door close a while back but figured if it was Steph she would come to bed when she was ready and if it wasn't her, I didn't give a shit to talk to anybody, so I stayed put.

Eventually I began to wake up more fully and realized there were voices coming from the living room. When I realized it was Steph and Dr. Walker talking I was tempted to interrupt, but the laughter that came through told me they were probably enjoying the chance to relax, so I stayed put eavesdropping instead.

When they discussed the similarities of their families I began to feel like I was intruding and tried to block out their voices, but when Steph shrieked in laughter and said, "Oh God, when Les does that I have trouble remembering my name," my attention was so captivated I found myself moving a little on the bed to better position myself for listening.

Dr. Walker laughed and responded to Steph's outburst. "I wasn't sure what he was doing at first, but I didn't have the ability to question him. Then when his tongue went from the back to the front I saw stars."

There was some more laughter and then Steph asked, "Okay, I have to know something."

"Shoot," Dr. Walker replied, giving her permission to ask a question.

"The nipple rings…" Steph started, unable to get a whole question out.

"Aren't they the sexiest things you've ever seen?" Dr. Walker must have understood what she wanted to know. "I never saw myself as a girl who fell for the bad boy, but when I first saw those things I couldn't shake the question of why a guy would voluntarily do that to himself. So when we were in my office I didn't waste anytime doing a little research on the subject."

"And…" Steph prompted when she tried to stop.

"I haven't asked why he did it, but I can tell you that when I get one of them in my mouth and pull on it with my tongue, it sends him over the moon. I guess they add to the sensitivity because he becomes all hands and moans when I mess with them," She finished explaining.

"Does it make you want to have yours done?" Steph asked with a giggle.

"Oh God no!" Dr. Walker quickly replied. "As much as I love his I don't have the guts to let somebody put a hole through my nipple. Can you imagine how much it would hurt?"

There was a little pause before Steph said, "Well you could always numb it first."

"What?" Now it was the shrink's chance to be stunned.

"Les did this thing with his mouth and an ice cube…" Steph started talking, and then abruptly stopped.

"Oh no. You aren't leaving it there… not after me spilling the beans on the tongue thing with Bobby. What did Les do with ice and his mouth?"

Steph made a moaning sound that my body instinctually responded to before talking, "It was the night before he left on his mission, and we'd already…well you know."

"Yes, I know, now quite stalling and spill," Dr. Walker prompted.

"I'd fallen asleep and was only vaguely aware of him getting out of bed. When I woke up the next time he was laying between my legs with a cup in one hand and his other hand stroking my boob." I remembered exactly what she was talking about then.

"And…" Dr. Walker tried to get her talking when Steph's voice stopped a second time.

She cleared her voice and confessed. "I told him to go back to sleep because after two days straight of making love at every possible opportunity, I was too sore to rally again. He laughed and told me he had something to ease the tenderness, and that was all it took to wake me up. So he reached in the cup and put something in his mouth and then grinned at me. That wicked crooked little smile should have told me I was in for it. He moved up and wrapped his mouth around…you know."

"Your nipple?" Dr. Walker clarified.

"Yesss," Steph hissed out sounding mortified. "Anyway, there was ice in his mouth. I nearly screamed from the shock of it, but there was something about the frigid feel of the ice then he would pull it back and suck on me making me feel warm again, then he'd bring the ice back against the nipple. I was going nuts after about thirty seconds. By the time he was done, I couldn't feel the tender bits; I was only capable of feeling the good stuff he was doing."

"How was that story supposed to help me?" Dr. Walker asked with a slight slur in the words with the letter s. How much had they been drinking?

"Well, you could get Bobby to numb you up, then getting your boobs pierced wouldn't hurt, and you could experience the whole mind blowing experience of having him pull on _your_ rings and sending _you_ into a moaning fit like what you did to him," Steph explained.

"Tempting, but no. I just can't do it. Besides, if it really did make the sensitivity that much greater, what would happen when I went jogging and they were rubbing against my bra? I'd be getting exercise and getting myself off at the same time." They both burst into hysterical laughter at that image.

Steph managed to add, "Nah, I think once you started moaning Bobby would find a secluded spot to drag you off somewhere and have his way with you before you started doing jumping jacks to finish yourself off."

Is this how women usually talked? I mean, I figured girl talk was all about hair, clothes, and make-up. I didn't realize they were this graphic about sex too. I looked around and realized I had completely moved so that my head was now at the foot of the bed and my feet were on my pillow so that I could hear them better.

"So, is there anything you haven't tried?" Dr. Walker asked when they quieted down.

"Sure," Steph replied with a swishing sound like her lips had been drinking from a bottle. I wondered how many rings would be on the coffee table in the morning after they finished off the beer in my fridge.

"Any of it stuff you want to try?" Dr. Walker pushed again, causing my head to jerk up anxious for the answer. "Too late to back out, the fact that your face now matches your toenail polish means the answer is yes."

"Well…" Steph started and paused before apparently finding the strength to finish her thought. "The whole thing with butt stuff is a complete mystery to me. I mean, the thought always gave me the heebie geebies, but there's this web-site where fans write these stories to finish the books of my favorite authors, and some of them get kind of graphic about sex."

"Keep talking," Dr. Walker prompted once more.

"Well, a bunch of them talk about the guy inserting a finger or two…there, and the girl just loving it. I mean most of these stories were written by women, so I have to assume there's something to it. Then a few more go so far as to have the guy actually put his…you know…there, and they talk about it like it's mind blowing. So it got me thinking that maybe I'd like to try it, but at the same time I'm a little worried that it will just feel so dirty that I won't be able to take it and I'll freak out." Steph got suddenly quiet, I assume overcome with embarrassment talking so frankly about sex.

My body however was practically humming, and I had to roll over to give my erection a little relief from being pressed into the bed. The idea of helping Steph explore part of her sexuality she hadn't experienced had me wanting to throw Dr. Walker out so we could start the lessons now. I mean, I already knew it could mind blowing, and I knew exactly how to be sure she enjoyed it.

Before I found the strength to stand up and do just that, Dr. Walker started talking. "Well, I can't answer to having sex like that, but I can tell you that while you're having sex the regular way, having something inserted…there…is an amazing thing. If he's able to keep his rhythm, get a finger in the back, and a hand on your front, then your brain has to completely turn off because you are completely incapable of thinking about anything but the overwhelming pleasure of it."

I had to muffle my laugh at the fact that neither of them could use the words ass or anal and kept referring to it as 'there'. Maybe this wasn't typical girl talk, and that's why they were both a little nervous about talking this way.

"Who did…" Steph started and then blurted out, "I'm sorry, that's none of my business."

"No, it's alright," Dr. Walker assured her. "It was Bobby. I'm telling you, I'm pretty sure the fact he's a medic has given him some other worldly understanding of the human body so that he can produce responses out of me that I didn't think were possible."

Alright, there were things I didn't need to know about my best friend. Besides, my ego was a little insulted that she thought only a medical professional was capable of drawing that type of response from a woman.

I could tell Steph's editor had been kicked out by the alcohol when she asked, "How is it possible for him to be that many places at once?"

They both started laughing uncontrollably, and I made a mental note that I was probably going to need to get the cure brought in for Steph in the morning.

"Doggie style is how we did it, but I'll bet it's possible other ways if the guy is creative enough," Dr. Walker answered, quickly telling me her editor was probably drunk too.

"Urgh!" Steph responded in an incoherent way.

"What?" Dr. Walker asked suddenly serious. "Don't tell me you don't like it from behind."

"No," Steph answered, making me have to cover up a groan, this time in disappointment. "It's just that my ex-husband had this thing about it. He was constantly pressuring me about it, so on our honeymoon I figured it would make a nice wedding present and when he came to bed I flipped over and put it up in the air for him."

"Okaaaay," Dr. Walker said, stretching the word out as though she could see disaster coming in the story.

"Well just before he started I turned my head around and told him to be gentle because I was nervous about it," Steph said with her voice getting more serious by the word. "He laughed at me and said the whole purpose of that position was so the man didn't have to be gentle because he couldn't see the woman's face to know if she was hurting or not. Then he pushed my head down to the mattress, shoved himself in, and serviced himself using my body. I tried to get him to stop, but he just put his hands on my shoulders to hold me down to the mattress."

"Oh Stephanie," Dr. Walker said with such care in her voice. "He raped you on your wedding night."

"No, he didn't rape me," Steph disagreed. "I mean, we were married."

"Did you tell him to stop?" Dr. Walker followed up.

"Yes," Steph answered softly.

"Did you want him to stop?"_ I was so glad Dr. Walker was leading this conversation. I found myself clinching my fists, mentally preparing what I would do to Dickie the next time I saw him in town. I might have a bad knee, but I felt sure that I could put a hurting on the piece of shit. Better yet, I needed to get just a little stronger and then a group of us could pay him a visit in his office and let him know what we thought about his treatment of Stephanie. That way even if my knee wasn't supporting me well enough my back up could make sure that he didn't forget this lesson. Regardless of how it happened that prick was going to hurt and hurt bad for what he did to Stephanie._

"Yes," Steph replied with a sniff.

"Then it was rape no matter what your marital status was," She explained. "No wonder you aren't interested in that position. It would be so hard to overcome that memory."

"I just didn't like the fact that I felt like he was dominating me, and there was nothing I could do about it," Steph explained. "So since then, I just don't let myself get in a position like that."

"The trick to that is to replace the horrible memory with a good one. I'm not saying that you should go up to Les and put your ass in the air, but you probably should explain why you don't like that position. There are others ways for him to take you from behind so that you don't feel so dominated."

"How?" Steph asked, suddenly interested.

"Shit…" Dr. Walker answered. "I'm not Dr. Ruth you know."

"Fine, fine, now tell me how else I can do it that way without having to feel like a dog in the process?" Steph asked again.

"Have you tried it with him laying on the bed and you straddling him but facing away from his face? That way the angle is different, but you are the one in control." Dr. Walker suggested, making me feel the need to start taking notes.

"If that went well then you could try standing up and bending over something, like the bar over there. With the open space in front of you that feeling of being trapped and unable to get away wouldn't be there," she suggested next, and the image of having Steph draped over the countertop in the kitchen made me moan.

"Shhh!" Steph shushed her friend. "Did you hear something?"

Both of them got up, neither of which was very stable, making them loud and full of drunken giggles as they came to the bedroom to check on me. I dropped my head back to the mattress and pretended to sleep.

"Was he turned that way when we first got here?" Dr. Walker asked, trying to whisper, but it came out really loudly any way.

"I don't think so," Steph replied. "Do you think he heard us talking about…stuff?"

There was a pause and then Dr. Walker busted out laughing with Steph shushing her repeatedly. "What is so funny?" Steph demanded.

"I'm pretty sure he heard at least part of our conversation," Dr. Walker replied, testing my self control to keep pretending to be asleep.

"How?" Steph asked in her loud stage whisper.

"Look at him," Dr. Walker said with a tone of 'isn't it obvious.'

"Oh my God, he's got…I mean is that an…" Steph seemed unable to get a whole sentence out, making me run a mental inventory of what was wrong with me. I knew I had on clothes because I took a shower after my PT with Bobby and came to bed in the sweats I threw on after that. I wasn't wearing a shirt, but it was nothing both of them hadn't seen before.

"Yep, he's pitching quite a tent," Dr. Walker clarified with a fit of giggles once more.

Shit, I had forgotten about the major wood proudly standing at attention after listening to them talk about sex and positions.

Steph let out a sweet sounding sigh, and Dr. Walker put the words to its meaning. "You are one lucky woman."

"I really am," Steph agreed with that dreamy sound in her voice.

"I think I should excuse myself and let you wake up your husband properly to take advantage of that little development," Dr. Walker suggested.

"Little development?" Steph repeated, sounding as insulted as I felt. "Look at the way his pants are being pulled tight. There is absolutely nothing little about that."

Damn straight. My woman knows how to rub my ego. Now, if we could just lose the good doc, I'd be willing to let her rub anything she wanted to.

I heard my hall door being opened and both girls swung around, laughing once more. At least they were having a good time now, which I hoped would make their hangovers in the morning worth it.

"What are you two doing?" Bobby's voice asked with great curiosity.

"We're admiring Steph's husband," Dr. Walker answered a little too honestly.

I heard Bobby drawing closer and then he laughed asking, "How much have you two had to drink?"

There were a few non-committal sounds from the girls before Bobby blurted out. "Shit, I didn't remember Santos being that well endowed."

Suddenly I felt like a stud horse being examined before being auctioned off. Despite feeling a little exposed I couldn't help but feel a little validated by having my friend admit I was impressive. My self satisfied smirk was getting harder to hold back now.

"Oh Baby, you are completely smashed, aren't you?" Bobby asked, sounding both disappointed and amused at the same time.

"Maybe a little," she admitted, making Steph burst out laughing.

"What is so funny to you, Bomber?" Bobby asked, apparently finding her laughter contagious.

"I'm just picturing you with a cup of ice in your hand," she managed to get out, making Dr. Walker bust out in hysterics.

"What?" Bobby was completely lost.

"Steph shared something Les did involving a piece of ice and her nipple," Dr. Walker started to explain.

Fortunately, Bobby interrupted her. "Baby, I don't need to hear the details, and I'm pretty sure in the morning light Steph won't want me to have heard them either."

"Maybe not, but I am pretty curious what it must have felt like," the doc teased Bobby.

His voice dropped down to Barry White's range and he said, "Then Baby, let's go to my apartment, and I'll show you where he learned that trick."

Smug bastard was taking credit for my moves. He didn't teach me that. If anything, I would have told him about it.

Before I could get too worked up over it Dr. Walker's drunken confusion provided me with a laugh when she asked, "Did you do it do him?"

"You're not going to be any use to me tonight are you?" He asked with a chuckle.

"That depends, are you ready to go to sleep?" She asked with an obvious yawn.

"Apparently, I am," he replied disappointed.

They said goodnight to Steph, and when I heard the apartment door close I started to stir, pretending to wake up while hoping Steph was drunk enough to buy that I was just now coming out of my hibernation.

When my eyes met hers she was licking her lips. "What are you thinking?" I asked her, unable to read the expression on her face at all.

"I haven't had a doughnut in two days," she said, running her tongue across her bottom lip slowly once more.

I was lost. "Do you want me to have someone run to the bakery?"

She shook her head no slowly from side to side without taking her eyes off of mine.

Finally she answered, "Have I ever explained to you what happens when I don't have a stable amount of sugar in my diet?"

"No," I replied with a chuckle, thinking that alcohol was like truth serum for my wife and filing that little nugget away for future reference.

She came over and straddled my waist, running the tips of her nails over my chest with just enough pressure to make it sting without really hurting. The bulge in my sweatpants began to throb. "I eat sugar because it helps to level off my hormones. When I don't have the sugar high to keep things in check, then I start thinking about one of two things."

She stopped, so I put my hands on her hips and then prompted her, "What are those two things?"

"Usually I focus on how to get some sugar into my system, but if there isn't any available, then all I can think about is how to level off my hormones," she explained with a bit of a slur in her speech.

"And how do you level off your hormones?" I asked, hoping her answer was what I thought it would be.

When she started to rub herself against me, I felt like a kid on Christmas morning that just got everything I'd asked Santa for.

"I'm going to run to the bathroom, and when I get back I'll show you how to level off my hormones," she said in a seductive sounding voice. This night was getting better and better.

I nodded, and she stumbled her way to the bathroom and shut the door. While I waited for her return I decided to go ahead and slip out of my pants so that at least one of us would be naked for addressing her whole sugary hormone issue. Then I got an evil thought of how I could keep her off sugar for as long as possible just to keep her focused on sex instead. The longer we were together the more amazing she was to me.

After waiting for what I figured was long enough for her to have taken care of everything possible in the bathroom I went to the door and listened. It was completely quiet, so I knocked and still didn't get a response.

Gently, I pushed the door open and smiled at the image of Stephanie on the floor, completely asleep. I had to assume she sat down on the tile to take off her pants, and when they wouldn't come off over her shoes, which were still on, she gave up and laid back, before falling asleep. I felt a warmth in my chest at the sight of her all undone and in complete disarray. She was so beautiful to me, even though I knew she'd be mortified to think of herself as having been sprawled out on the floor.

I hobbled over and sat on the edge of the tub to reach down and slip her sneakers off before pulling her pants the rest of the way off. With that taken care of I figured she would be more comfortable in the bed instead of sleeping on the floor, so I tried to wake her up, but she was completely dead to the world. I guess the drinking finally caught up with her and she'd crashed. I had to pull her over, hoping the friction against the floor wasn't giving her some sort of weird tile burn, and then I managed to get her up in my lap.

She was totally out of it to have slept through all the less than smooth jostling it took to get her into my arms so that I could attempt to get us back to the bedroom. Eventually, I managed it and put her in the bed, with her head on the pillow, pulling the covers up around her.

I climbed in on my side and felt all alone with her all the way over on the other side of the mattress. I moved toward the middle of the bed and touched her hand, thinking if I could hold it while I went to sleep my body would know she was with me. Instead, I felt her gravitate toward me, and we met in the center of the bed where she put her head on my chest so that I could hold her in our normal sleeping position.

This night definitely didn't turn out the way I'd envisioned it, but holding her against my heart, completely content with her in my arms, made me think it was hard to imagine anything being any better than this.


	19. I'm Back

_JE created all the Plum Universe characters below._

_Fredda (Rangergirl1234), thank you so much for giving of your time as the beta on this story. I can't really tell you how grateful I am for all that you do._

_Amy (beancounter74), thank you for giving me so much to work with as the inspiration for Dr. Amy Walker below._

**Chapter 19 - I'm Back**

"I'm going to owe Steph big time for introducing us to her hangover cure. Amy was in rough shape this morning before I gave her the fries and coke," Bobby said while pouring himself a second bowl of Peanut Butter Captain Crunch from my cupboard.

I glanced back at the bedroom door and listened, hoping for some sign that Steph was back among the living, but once again it was still silent. "Thanks for picking up some for Steph too. Maybe she'll get up in time to eat it before all the ice has melted from her Coke."

Bobby started laughing when I mentioned the word ice. I raised an eyebrow, challenging him to tell me what in the hell was so funny. "Amy was so sloshed last night that despite being exhausted, she couldn't keep from telling me about some of her conversation with Stephanie. You wouldn't believe what they were discussing."

"Oh, I'd believe it alright. Hell, I listened to most of it," I confessed with a smile.

"You sly dog, I knew you weren't asleep when I saw what you were sporting in your trunks," Bobby teased.

"Hey, I believe you called it impressive. There's no reason to act all modest about it now," I joked back.

"Shut up," he bit back before correcting me, "Besides I said you were well endowed, not impressive."

"Semantics…either way, you know you wish you were me," I couldn't resist adding.

I felt a slightly wet ball of cereal hit the side of my head and realized this was probably not the beginning of the mature part of our conversation.

Before I could say anything in return someone knocked at the door and then let themselves in. Tank appeared in the doorway with a folder in his hand.

"You have got to be the biggest telegram delivery boy I've ever seen," I said when he stopped in front of me.

Bobby jumped in, "How can you even ride a bike without crushing the frame?"

"It's been a while since I've had to take you two babies down on the mats. Do we need to revisit that?" Tank threatened, apparently not in the mood to play with me and Bobby.

I tried to get a little more serious. "What you got there?" I asked, pointing to the folder.

"Ranger will have the information in the hands of Maria Hernandez by 2200 hours. He's got a list of people that are on the ground in Columbia that he thinks are trustworthy enough to keep an eye on the brothers to see if they move in response to her news. He wanted you to take a look at the list before I contact any of them to see if there are any that seem like a bad idea to you," Tank explained, handing me the piece of paper.

I looked it over and didn't recognize a single name on the list. That was probably a good thing. If I'd know any of them I'd assume that would have been a bad thing. "These are all good to me, I don't recognize any of the names quite honestly."

Tank nodded and then picked up a pillow from the couch in one hand, lifted my cast with his free hand in order to slip the pillow under my ankle. I looked at him like he'd grown a second head.

"What?" He asked defensively before explaining. "My Grandmother was a nurse. If you elevate your leg a little more then swelling won't be such a problem."

"Shit Bobby, this isn't the telegram delivery boy, this is the world's ugliest nurse," I replied. Then before I could stop myself I asked, "You don't have any cousins in New York do you?"

He nodded. "Yea, my Aunt's daughter Shrina is there, and then my other cousins Benjamin and Marcus are there too."

"They work at the VA?" I pushed, knowing the answer already.

"Yea, they do now. Marcus used to be in the Army, but he came back from a mission all screwed up in the head. The doctor there helped him get his act back together, and he stayed to look out for her. Ben has always been in health care. He went to the VA when Marcus was still there being treated and got hired on to watch over him."

"Who was the doctor that helped Marcus?" I asked just so Bobby could hear someone else sing the praises of his woman.

Tank squinted as though he were trying to pull the name from his memory. The door to the apartment opened as Tank finally got his brain to give up the info, "Dr. Amy Walker."

As soon as he spoke her name Amy appeared at the back of the couch and said, "Yes?"

Tank turned and looked at her slightly confused. Dr. Walker waited a minute and then said, "You said my name, was there something you needed?"

Tank looked at me and Bobby and then up at the shrink. "You're the woman that saved my cousin?"

There was an awkward pause before she smiled softly and said, "Pierre?"

Tank grimaced, hating his given name. "I go by Tank here."

"Obviously," she replied with a gesture to his size. "Marcus is doing well. And for the record, I didn't save him. He saved himself; I was just there to watch it happen."

"He said you were a good woman," Tank replied.

Bobby had seen enough and he got up to stand behind his girl to put an arm around her waist. "She's an amazing woman."

Tank's eyebrows shot up in tandem, briefly showing his surprise. He covered it pretty quickly and said, "If you need anything while you're here, just let me know."

Bobby didn't look amused at Tank's friendly offer, but he wisely chose to keep his mouth shut.

After Tank left, Bobby pulled Amy around to sit next to him on the couch. She leaned against his side and shut her eyes, as though the act of having a conversation with Tank had completed exhausted her.

Finally she spoke, but her eyes stayed shut, "Has Steph resurfaced yet?"

"No, she's still pretending to be dead in there," I nodded to the bedroom door. "What made you two decide to get drunk last night?" I couldn't resist asking.

She smiled, but still didn't seem to have the energy to open her eyes, "I don't think we decided it, it just happened. After we finished getting the file just the way we wanted for Maria we got to talking, then we came down here and started with some shots."

Damn, if Steph had done shots first I'm surprised she was conscious long enough to have the conversation I overheard.

Apparently, Dr. Walker wasn't done blowing my mind because she kept talking. "After we got a pretty good buzz going we decided to slow down and just stick with beer, but neither of us had any dinner, so I guess they were getting to us pretty quickly. I don't remember a lot of what happened after we made out on the couch. I mean I can remember us kissing a lot, and then taking off her shit and she climbed into my lap…"

I looked at Bobby, and his head looked like it was about to explode from the visual that was being painted. Apparently, we were both so distracted imagining our women getting it on that we didn't hear Steph come out of the bedroom. Her voice nearly scared the crap out of me when she picked up the story and said, "And then you did that thing with your tongue and I nearly passed out. I never thanked you for letting me practice it on you until I got it right."

The doc was sitting up, looking at Steph with a big grin on her face and she said, "I think I should be the one thanking you. I mean practice makes perfect, and based on how it feels this morning, you were doing it perfectly."

Bobby's mouth was literally hanging open and I while I wasn't catching flies, I couldn't string together any words either. I guess the girls decided to have a little mercy because they looked at us, then each other, and finally burst into hysterical laughter. "You guys will believe anything won't you?" Stephanie asked while wiping tears off her face.

"You mean…you guys didn't…" There was a question in there somewhere, but poor Bobby couldn't quite get it out.

"No, honey," Dr. Walker said patting his hand like an indulgent parent. "We weren't getting our lesbian kicks while you were so far enough away that you couldn't watch."

I looked at Steph who sat down next to me, still holding the cup of Coke I'd left for her on the nightstand. I lifted an eyebrow, but couldn't come up with the question either. I was just hoping if it looked like I had one that Steph might answer it anyway.

She kissed the stubble on my cheek and said, "No, we don't promise to tell you if we ever decide to get our lesbian kicks in order to insure that you are here to watch."

I looked over at Bobby and said, "Trouble. I told you these two together would be definite trouble."

He nodded, but didn't bother trying to speak to agree with me.

"Thanks for the cure," Steph said looking up at me with the sweetest expression.

I lifted my arm so that she could lean against me and kissed her hair as she settled against my side. "Anything for you."

She jerked her head up to look me in the eye. "Anything?"

I grinned my best smile at her; the one that had talked many women out of their panties in bars and repeated, "Anything."

"Ohhh good, I've got a horrible headache and wondered if you would rub my neck to see if it would help get rid of it," She replied. I assumed she was teasing, but when she got up and straddled my lap with her back to my chest I realized she was dead serious.

So I did the only thing I could do. I lifted my hands to her neck and dutifully brushed her hair out of the way to work out some of the tension there. Steph received the massage the way she does everything that she enjoys…she moaned her way through it. I wasn't complaining, although I was glad she was sitting in my lap to block the view of the newly risen bulge in my pants.

Finally Dr. Walker sat up and said, "Shit Bobby, we have to go next door. Listening to her is getting me hot and bothered, so you can either take care of me yourself or you and Lester need to leave so that Steph and I can work this out ourselves." She stood up and held out her hand. When Bobby's eyes met hers she added, "We'll catch you guys later."

Bobby stood and took her hand echoing her sentiment with a grin on his face, "Much later."

When the door closed Stephanie flipped around and said, "I thought they'd never leave. If Amy hadn't taken the hint soon I was going to have to start rubbing myself on you as the next level of pressure."

The thought of her rubbing herself against me made me comment. "I could call them back if it would get you moving."

She leaned back and giggled. "Oh God I've missed you," she stated as fact.

"What do you mean?" I asked, wrapping my arms around her waist to hold her tightly to me.

Her head fell back and rested on my shoulder as she explained. "When we were in New York you were really serious. You would make the occasional joke, but you didn't really relax and let out the easy going Lester that I fell in love with. I knew you'd been through some horrible things, so I've been waiting to see if my Les was still in there."

I made a humming sound of contentment at the phrase 'my Les'. I relaxed my grip on her in order to run a hand through her hair, "I'll always be yours, but somebody was threatening you, and that was too serious to ignore. I guess I've relaxed since we've been back here because I know we're both secure in the building. I'd always rather play with you, but I can't let my guard down so much that it could allow someone to hurt you."

Her hand reached behind her head to loosely grab a fistful of my hair and hold onto it. "That's why I love you."

"Why _do_ you love me?" I asked, genuinely curious what reason she would give.

"Because you are such a complicated man," she replied, as though it weren't an insult.

"Complicated?" I pushed for her to explain.

"Yes. Well, maybe not complicated so much as multilayered. You're like a good piece of cake. There is the cake itself, which is the structure that makes it what it is, but then there are the gooey layers of icing in-between that are creamy and sweet and lickable." Her analogy was quickly getting away from her, but I couldn't tell if she were more turned on thinking about licking me or eating cake. I struggled not to let it insult me. I guess she has loved cake longer than me, and they say you never really get over your first love.

"Steph," I interrupted her thoughts.

"Yea," she replied absent mindedly.

"I'm trying not to get jealous about the glazed expression on your face right now. I don't mind competing with Joe, and I'm pretty sure since you married me that Ranger isn't a threat, but I'm not sure how to get the upper hand with dessert," I explained, making her laugh.

She spun around so that she could see my face. "I just meant that I love every part of you. I know you have a strong fighter inside and that you've been through some horrible dark things. That's just as much a part of you as the laid back funny guy. I love the whole package, but for a while I felt like part of the package was missing, and I'm glad to see it's still there. You were just holding it back because of the situation."

I cupped her face and saw the sincerity of her words clearly reflected in her eyes. "I can't tell you how it makes me feel to hear you say that. Most women can't accept the whole package. They either want the tough guy or the jokester, but rarely do they want us both."

Steph's hips pressed against me hard, making my whole mind focus on her with complete tunnel vision. "Trust me, Mr. Santos, I want the whole package."

I couldn't stop myself from grinning. "Here it is. I'm all yours. Unwrap your package whenever you want it."

She dropped her mouth to mine and kissed me passionately, holding nothing back. I know she was trying to assure me how she felt, and the feeling of being on the receiving end of what she was so freely giving was driving me past the point of control. My hands were working themselves up the back of her shirt. When I realized I'd worked from her hips to her neck without coming across anything but skin, I moaned and commented, "You're not wearing a bra."

"Easier access," she explained, clamping her lips back over mine to draw her tongue back into my mouth.

I heard a pounding sound and assumed it was just the knocking of my increased heart rate in my ears. But when she pulled back growling like a female bear whose den was under attack I realized someone was actually knocking rather insistently at the door.

We both looked at each other as though trying to decide if it was worth trying to ignore it when my cell phone started ringing. A few seconds later the phone in the apartment began to sound off. "I think whoever it is won't give up, so we may as well answer the door and try to get rid of them as fast as possible."

She got up mumbling something under her breath softly enough that I could only make out random words… "Knocking…sex again…explode…next time." The only bright side was that she sounded as frustrated as I felt.

Steph opened the door and harshly said, "This better be damned important!"

Ranger's voice cut her off. "Babe, relax. I was just looking for the doctor that worked with you last night. I thought she was with Bobby, but I'm not getting an answer at his apartment, so I thought I'd try here."

Then he looked at her chest and grinned. I couldn't stop the growl that bubbled up in my throat. I knew he had a history with Steph, and I completely believed her when she said that the history was just that…history. But I knew him well enough to know he was fully aware that she was not wearing anything under that shirt, and the fact that he was appreciating the view of her chest in the tight tee was pissing me off.

Ranger followed Steph to the couch while he explained his presence. Stephanie sat down hard next to me and grumbled, "So we got interrupted, and it's not even for us."

Ranger had a half smile on his face when he looked at me. "You might want to get her some doughnuts if you can't keep up."

My PT with Jack and Bobby must have paid off because I found myself getting off the couch and onto my feet faster than I thought possible. "I could keep up fine if you'd stop interrupting."

Ranger put a hand up and said, "Relax Santos, I just need to get a phone to the doctor. It's the secure satellite line that they told Maria to call if she wanted to talk to someone about the information. It's untraceable, so I thought she should keep it with her because she was insistent that if Maria needed to talk to anyone that it be her. Something about framing the conversation to be sure she interpreted the info to get the conclusion we wanted her to have."

Steph stood up and held out her hand, "I'll give it to Amy."

"So tell me about the doctor," Ranger said looking at me as Stephanie took the phone from his hand. I was glad that he was back to the strictly business mode and his eyes were capable of focusing on something other than her chest.

"What do you want to know?" I asked.

"Brown seems to think she could be an asset to RangeMan, but since he has a particular interest in her, I'm not sure his opinion will carry much weight," he explained.

I went into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of water, wondering how much to say. Finally, I just went with the truth. "She's been in combat, she understands the stress of missions, and her military training is all current. Her medical credentials speak for themselves. She's the head of a department at a VA, and it seems that anybody who works with her professionally comes away with the same impression that there is no one better. She's damn good at the head stuff."

Ranger had his arms crossed over his chest. "We've got a system that works. Why should I change that?"

I knew what he meant. Our annual evaluations were a foregone conclusion. Unless one of us went in weeping in the corner or screaming at the top of our lungs about seeing dead people, we knew in advance that we were going to be cleared. He didn't ask anything challenging, and he never followed up when we lied, even if it was obvious. Hell, he even cleared Hector every year, and Hector refused to say anything. He just sat there for the whole hour in silence, staring at him and sharpening his knife.

Upsetting the apple cart wasn't something the guys would take too kindly to, so coming up with an argument to use Dr. Walker instead of the dinosaur was hard. "Maybe because then you'd not only have the evaluations that you're required to have on file, but they might mean something too. She has a way of cutting through bull-shit. Don't you want to know if someone on your staff is walking a fine line? Wouldn't you at the very least want a little warning before things got too far out of hand?"

"I think I'd know if somebody was close to that," he corrected me.

"Did you know Tank's cousins work at the VA where I was transferred?" I asked him. He nodded yes, so I kept talking. "Marcus, the bigger of the two, was given the job of restraining me at night when I had these violent dreams. I busted his lip, still asleep, fighting a faceless enemy and not remembering a damn thing the next morning. I work up a little confused, but completely unaware of the damage my nighttime dreams were causing. Dr. Walker not only cut through the crap of why they were happening, but she did it in a way to keep me from feeling crazy. She's good, Carlos. You should give the guys a chance to get the shit off their chests that they carry around."

His eyes got bigger when I used his given name instead of Ranger. But I wanted to be sure he heard what I was saying. Sometimes we needed somebody to make us talk, and Dr. Walker was capable of doing just that.

"I'll think about it," he said before nodding at Steph and leaving us alone once more.

After the door closed Steph put her arm around my waist and hugged herself to me. "That was really well said."

I kissed her head and replied, "I just wish it would make a difference." I had a feeling Ranger appreciated her skills just enough to want to keep her away from his own head. There were secrets in there I knew he'd never let out, and I had a bad feeling that he knew if anyone could whittle their way into his head it would be the good doc.

"Come on," I said taking her hand in mine. "Let's go bust up whatever fun they're having next door to deliver that phone. If we can't have any fun let's be sure they can't either."

"That's horrible," she said with a smile before adding, "Can I be the one to bang on the door?"

We stopped in front of Bobby's apartment door, and I pulled her back to my chest and leaned down to whisper in her ear, intentionally making my voice as low and my breath as hot as possible, "Beautiful, you can bang on anything you want to."

She shivered as I spoke and I grinned feeling very proud of myself. I may be barely walking, unable to run, and still rebuilding my upper body, but I still had what it took to get an instant response out of my wife. Oh yea, Lester Santos was back!


	20. Mine, All Mine

_All the characters from the Plum Universe are from the genius of JE, not me._

_Fredda (Rangergirl1234), thank you for working so hard as the beta on this story. You amaze me with the fast turnaround and constant enthusiasm._

_Amy (beancounter74) thanks for the steady inspiration as Dr. Amy Walker in the story below._

**Chapter 20 – Mine, All Mine**

Watching Steph fidgeting beside me on the couch reminded me how much she hated surveillance. I think it was trying to keep her entertained for a two hour stint, watching a house for a skip to return, that first alerted me to how I really felt for her. She was constant motion; unable to sit still and get anywhere near a zone, and it didn't annoy me. If it had been any of the guys I would have called for a replacement and gotten them the hell out of my vehicle, but with her it was a challenge to come up with a way to make her comfortable and pass the time. We played twenty questions, which was really just truth or dare without the possibly of any dares. After the first twenty questions, we'd passed forty-five minutes, so we doubled it and played forty questions instead, taking us right up to the time we were relieved.

I learned something key about Stephanie that night. She was comfortable in her own skin. That's not to say that people's criticism of her didn't hurt, because it obviously did. And she was critically aware of her shortcomings. But the beautiful part was that despite those two things, she knew what she wanted – no, what she needed – out of life, and she refused to sacrifice that for the Burg, or Morelli, or even RangeMan. She thought it was a sign that something was wrong with her, but I knew the truth. She was the strongest person I had ever encountered, and from that moment on my heart belonged to her.

Now we were all in my living room supposedly watching a movie. Except Bobby and Amy were trying to discretely neck on the loveseat, Steph wasn't able to focus on anything except twitching and rearranging her position, and I was incapable of looking anywhere but at her. We were all on a sort of self imposed lock down until we were able to determine if the data that we had delivered to Maria was going to make any difference in Stewart's life expectancy. The cell phone Ranger delivered was sitting on the coffee table in Amy's reach, and we were all desperate to ignore the obvious ticking time bomb that it represented.

Finally, I caved to the pressure and reached over and hit the power button on the DVD remote. It took a few seconds for everyone to react, telling me how right I was that no one was watching the movie. "Is it over?" Bobby asked, the only person willing to look like a fool if that wasn't why I shut it off.

"No, but no one was watching it, and the tension was getting thick in the room, so I figured we needed something else to keep us occupied while we wait," I explained not getting any complaints.

Steph pulled her legs under her on the sofa and twisted so that she was facing me instead of sitting beside me. "What did you have in mind?"

"Let's play truth or dare," I suggested.

Dr. Walker blinked quickly several times and then asked, "Are you stuck in high school, or is that really the best you could come up with?"

I leveled her with a stare and replied, "This coming from the woman making out with my best friend during a movie."

Dr. Walker blushed and gave me the cutest grin, "Touché."

Bobby moved so that he was able to see me better and said, "I'm in. We may as well do something since you're obviously opposed to giving us a little privacy."

I pointed to the door as an invitation for them to leave and replied, "Screw."

The girls laughed and both made comments indicating they were okay with playing, so Steph asked, "What are your rules?"

I didn't think it was that complicated of a game. "We'll take turns asking each other questions which have to be answered truthfully. If you can't or won't answer it truthfully, then you have to do a dare."

"Alright, who asks questions of whom?" Bobby followed up.

"We'll each ask one question to the other three people alternating, so the same person isn't being hit up three times in a row." I guessed that would work.

"Okay, but I want to go first," Bobby replied, suddenly getting his serious face on which made me a little nervous. I lifted my hand indicating he had the floor and waited to see if I'd regret my suggestion we play this together.

Bobby then turned to Dr. Walker and gave her his wicked smile. I'd been around him long enough to know that nothing good ever came from that smile. "What's the most daring place you've ever had sex?"

Her face turned nearly Christmas red before she covered her eyes slightly with her fingers. "Did you have to ask me a question first?"

"You're the one I'm most interested in, Baby," he told her with his bedroom voice.

She took a deep breath and then squared her shoulders before looking at Steph and then turning back to look at Bobby. "In the back seat of a Mustang."

Bobby was completely confused, and the wrinkles on his forehead made me think of one of those Chinese dogs that look like they need to be ironed. "That's not exactly scandalous. That's _really_ the most daring place you've ever done it?"

If possible, her face got even redder, and she said, "The Mustang was in the showroom of a car dealership."

"What?" I asked, unsure I understood her right. "You're going to have to give up a few more details."

She looked at Steph as though she wouldn't be able to confess it if she had to even glance at Bobby or me. "V and I were having one of those nights where we were really happy, almost punchy, and for no apparent reason we ended up at Ford Dealership about thirty minutes before it was to close. V let the salesman walk him through the finer points of the mustang on the showroom floor that was at the back around a corner where no one was looking. Finally, V told the guy we needed a little time to talk about it and asked if he could give us a few minutes. As soon as he disappeared around the corner to the main part of the showroom, V told me to get in the back. I did and the next thing I knew my skirt was around my hips and I learned that while there isn't much leg room in the back, it is still possible to maneuver quiet nicely."

"What did you tell the sales person?" Steph followed up.

Dr. Walker burst out laughing. "V said that while he liked the ride, he wasn't sure he wanted to be that cramped when he was maneuvering. I thought God was going to hit us both with lightening bolts, but we managed to get out of there before anything horrible happened."

I was impressed that she shared that story with us and realized V must have been one hell of a guy to have so captured her heart. I briefly wondered if she was over him enough to entertain entering into a relationship with Bobby, or if my friend would always be competing with a ghost. But when I focused on them again I saw her tracing his jaw with her finger tips, and I saw on her face that not only was it possible for her to be in a relationship with Bobby, but they were making it work.

I decided to interrupt before they lost track of the fact we were playing a game other and it wasn't spin the bottle. "Alright, doc, since you answered one, you get to ask the next one."

"Alright…" she paused and looked at each of us in turn and finally landed on me. "Santos, did you feel guilty for seducing Maria in order to get the information you needed for your mission?"

Shit, she didn't beat around the bush with this did she? I heard Steph draw in a shaky breath, and when I looked at her I could see the conflict clearly painted on her face. She wanted to know the answer because she was an extremely curious person, but at the same time she was afraid of what I was going to say. To tell the truth, so was I. I couldn't refuse to answer or that would basically tell everyone that I felt no remorse, yet at the time I did what I thought had to be done.

I rubbed my eyelids with my thumb and forefinger. "At the time, no I didn't. I mean, I don't want to hurt people, but I had to look at it the same as if it had been a guy that we needed information from and we had to beat it from him. I mean, I don't get my jollies from beating the shit out of someone, but sometimes you have to shut that part of your mind down and do what has to be done. At the time, Ranger said we needed info that only that woman had. None of us were going to torture her to get it, so I had to do what needed to be done. I had to shut down part of my brain and focus on the task at hand."

"But did you enjoy it?" Steph asked quietly.

"Shit Steph, that was years ago. I had sex with a lot of women, and none of them meant anything to me. So, if you're asking if it felt good, then I guess at the time it did. If you're asking did it touch me the way it does we're together, then the answer is hell no, not even close. There was no emotional connection, no desire to be with her in any way other than to get her to open up enough to tell me what we needed to know. I know it was wrong in one way of thinking, but I don't know what else I could have done."

"There's nothing else you could have done," Dr. Walker answered emphatically. The way you looked at it as being comparable to physically torturing a male to get intel is exactly right. You were doing what you were ordered to do, and in the process you saved her a lot of suffering."

I gathered up my courage and looked at Steph, worried about what I would see. Of course I should have known better. As soon as my eyes locked on hers, she cupped my cheek with her hand and leaned in to kiss me lightly. With her lips practically touching mine she agreed. "I don't blame you, and you can't blame yourself either. It was a part of what you had to do." Then she leaned back and smiled at me to add, "But just to be clear…you do something like that now, and I'll be sure you aren't physically able to do it again."

I got her message loud and clear. I nodded at her to let her know I understood. It was an easy deal to accept because now that I was married there was no way I'd be able to seduce another woman. My body craved what only Stephanie could provide.

I shook my head to get myself back to the present and looked between my friend and my wife, trying to decide who to put in the hot seat first, and decided to have some mercy on my wife. "Bobby, was there ever a time you used your medical training to take a life instead of saving one?"

Bobby's eyes jerked to Amy quickly and then cut back to mine. He nodded in the affirmative and answered, "Once."

I waited for a more details and he eventually began to speak. "I was in Iraq before the Dessert Storm invasion. The convoy I was in was attacked by insurgents, and one of the humvees was directly hit. The driver was killed immediately. When I checked on the passenger he had been thrown around when the vehicle was forced over from the explosion and the body of the humvee had crushed his legs. There was no way they could be saved. In addition to that, he'd been hit with enough shrapnel to cause major blood loss. He was barely hanging onto consciousness, and when I grabbed my medic bag to help, him he took hold of my hands and shook his head no. I tried to tell him I could at least patch him up until we could get a helicopter in to lift him to a hospital, but he looked at his legs and shook his head again. I knew what he wanted, but I couldn't do it. Finally, he swallowed hard and told me, 'I'm not making it out of this alive.' I tried to disagree with him, and he shook his head and repeated it as a command, 'I'm not making it out of this alive.' He was weakening, and I knew the blood loss and collapsed lung would eventually take his life if I did nothing. I grabbed a syringe and a vile of morphine and I injected him with enough to overwhelm his system. Before his eyes fluttered shut he whispered 'thank you', and even though I knew it was wrong, I did what he asked of me."

Dr. Walker asked, "Could you have saved him? Would he have made it?"

Bobby shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. He probably had a fifty-fifty chance of surviving, if we could get him from under the vehicle and to a field hospital soon enough, and no chance at all of keeping any of his legs. He would have needed plenty of grit and determination to fight to live, and I knew he didn't have any in him. He didn't want to make it, which probably would have decided his fate more than anything my hands might have done."

She caressed his face so gently. "Then you did nothing wrong. The only people who would judge you are those that have never seen that look in someone else's eyes. He knew what he wanted, and you honored his last request. It took a lot of strength on your part."

Bobby looked at Dr. Walker and then leaned toward her and rested his forehead against hers. I wasn't sure what kind of missions she had run, but it seemed for the first time ever, Bobby had found someone who really understood his past. I couldn't have been happier.

We were all silent for a few minutes while she helped to ease whatever guilt he might have carried all these years. Finally, he kissed her hair and then sat back once more. I almost felt sorry for Steph when his head jerked around and he was grinning. "So Bomber, what's the kinkiest thing you've ever done?" 

Now this was an interesting predicament. I wanted to know the answer to that question. However, I didn't want my best friend to hear the details about her having sex with someone. I was the one that set up the rules of the game, so I couldn't very well tell her not to answer it, but I really didn't want her to.

Steph's face was already flushed, which told me she already had an answer in mind to the question. She looked at Bobby's face and opened her mouth before looking back at me and shutting it. Finally, she said, "Can I have a dare instead?"

Bobby grinned even bigger before saying, "I am so glad you asked for that." I never thought I'd see the day when I thought the better option was to have her describe her kinkiest sexual act, but I could tell Bobby had already come up with something horrible for her, and she had played right into his hands.

Just as he started talking the phone on the coffee table began to ring. All hints of playfulness were completely sucked out of the room. Dr. Walker pulled her hair behind her and sat up straighter before picking up the telephone and answering, "Maria?"

She paused in silence for a few minutes and then replied, "Yes, I did send you that information. I thought you had a right to know what happened to your father, and exactly who you were about to marry."

For the next half hour Dr. Walker listened and made short carefully worded comments of support and encouragement. She told Maria she had a right to feel betrayed and used, and that despite where she was from and the expectations her family might have that she had the right to either stand up for herself or to have someone do it on her behalf.

I thought that comment was the most interesting of all. It was like the doc was suggesting Maria have her cousins kill Stewart. Logically that was the most likely outcome. I certainly didn't see Maria doing it, and as long as Stewart was alive then there was no way I could have any assurance that Steph or I were safe.

When she finally got off the phone she sat there holding it in her hands, still replaying something in her head and not sharing. Finally, Bobby eased the phone from her hands and put his large hands over hers. "What do you think, Baby?" He asked her softly, trying to get her into the present with us. "Did she believe it?"

Dr. Walker moved her head from side to side, as though she were considering his question, and then she pulled one hand free and touched the scar on the side of her neck that was hidden under her hair. "I think so," she finally decided. "But something isn't right. I mean she was mad, and I believed her fury completely. The thing I can't figure out is that she didn't seem overly surprised that he was involved in her family's deaths, but she was genuinely angry with Stewart about something in that file."

Steph's left thumbnail went in her mouth to be toyed with between her teeth. It seemed both our women were lost in thought. Dr. Walker remembered one additional detail and shared. "She did say she was tempted to share the information with her cousins, saying in her country she had the right to be avenged for being treated the way she had been, but that the only way to respond to his kind of betrayal was with death, and she didn't think things like that were accepted in America. I told her she had the right to stand up for herself, or to have someone do it for her, hoping she would take the hint to pass it along to her cousins anyway."

Bobby finally announced that he and Amy needed to take the phone upstairs so Ranger could deactivate it and give him the details of her conversation, so they left a few minutes later.

Steph and I sat in silence for a few minutes, and I realized we were back to the pattern of waiting. I couldn't stand the quiet, so I asked her, "Now that we've gotten rid of the audience, what is the kinkiest thing you've ever done."

She laughed and relaxed her shoulders a bit before shrugging. "The truth is that I haven't really done that much strange stuff. The most out there thing I can claim is losing my virginity to Joe on the floor of the Tasty Pastry, behind the display case in high school. After that, I guess I was always a little wary of any suggestions that were out of the norm, so I've been a behind closed doors, standard positions kind of girl."

I realized as she finished speaking that I was flexing my fist trying to funnel the sudden onslaught of aggression I was feeling at the way Joe just used her like some common tramp, with no thought about taking care of her knowing it was her first time. I knew they had a history, but the more I learned about it, the more I felt like he needed a good old fashioned ass kicking as a starting point for making amends for what he did to her.

"Strangely, after he wrote about our escapades on the bathroom wall, everybody probably assumed I was this sexually perverted person, but that couldn't be further from the truth," she admitted, looking slightly wary about how I would respond to that announcement.

I'm sure there was a proper response to her insecurities. I probably should have held her hand and assured her that I didn't think of her as perverted and that her past was all history and not our concern. But that isn't what happened.

Instead I swung my braced leg off the coffee table used the momentum of that movement to raise myself up and reposition myself over her in order to lay her back on the sofa and press myself on top of her. I knew I wouldn't be able to hold the position for very long, but I needed to be sure I had her full attention.

"You listen to me Stephanie Santos, and you listen good," I began, slightly surprised at the rough sound of my voice. "I am completely in love with you. I think you're amazing in bed and often think about what a lucky SOB I am to have you beside me every night. I don't know where Joe got off taking advantage of you like that, and then finding a way to brag about it and embarrass you, but you have nothing to be ashamed of."

Her eyes were huge, so I tried to pull back on my intensity a little. "Honestly, I am so relieved to hear there a lot of things you haven't done, and I want to be the one to introduce you to the sensual side of yourself. You are an amazingly sexy woman, and I think the connection we have will allow us to try all kinds of things in a way that will make you feel strong and empowered instead of dirty and dominated."

She smiled slightly at my words, so I felt like I needed to be completely honest before I got up and broke the connection. "Just so you know, when I'm better, the next time I cross paths with Joe Morelli it probably won't end with him standing. It's been a long time coming, but someone should have stood up for you fifteen years ago, and I'm not going to let it go one day longer than it has to before I right that particular wrong."

I tried to get up, knowing my weight had to be a bit much for her, but she put her hands on my shoulders to stop me. "You would have made a great knight, rescuing the damsel in distress and defending her honor."

"I would have made a shitty knight, because I don't plan on it being a fair fight. I'm just going to walk up to him and beat the crap out of him until he's unconscious," I corrected.

She laughed lightly and shook her head no. "You can't do that. He's a cop, and despite what his past says about him, he's come a long way since then."

"I've got to at least hit him once," I warned her.

Her eyes narrowed, as though trying to make sense out of the male need to protect her. "Alright, but just once. You can't reduce him to a bloody pulp."

"What about your ex-husband?" I asked, figuring I may as well get it all out there while we were setting the ground rules.

Her entire expression shifted to something that would have made a lesser man back up. "You can do anything you damn well please to him."

Well wasn't this my lucky day? I couldn't do what I wanted to Joe, but it sounded like I was being given carte blanche permission with Mr. Orr. I smiled at the thought of what I wanted to do once my leg was back on board. I was slightly worried about what that meant. She still felt the need to defend Joe after all he did, but Dickie she was willing to throw to the lions, so to speak. What else had that piss poor excuse of a man done to her? Maybe it was best I didn't know.

She touched me and got my attention focused back on her instead of my eventual altercation with the dick, and I raised an eyebrow to let her know I was listening.

"Are you disappointed that I'm not more experienced in the bedroom? I mean, I'm no virgin, but I can't really compete with your experience and know how." She seemed nervous.

I softly touched her face and leaned in to kiss her lips gently before responding. "No, nothing about you could ever disappoint me. Honestly, I wouldn't want you to have experienced some of the things I have. The idea of it would be more than I can handle."

As I shifted my approach I began to kiss down her neck and talk to her in a lowered voice. "Besides, I like the idea of being the only one you've shared some of these things with. I want to be the one you try things with. I want to be the only one you've been comfortable and safe enough with to open your entire heart and body to."

I ran my tongue from her shoulder up to her ear, and then started talking once more. "I want to be the one to take you places sexually you never even imagined, because I can guarantee you that you've done that for me. Nothing I've ever experienced in the past prepared me for what it would be like to make love to you. To have my body inside yours, to have my heart beating beside yours, to have you want me the same way I want you makes it a new experience for me, and I want more of it. I've found when it comes to you that I'm a very greedy husband. I want all of you for myself; I want to taste you, I want to pleasure you, I want to hear you scream my name."

She shivered at my words and then spoke up in a breathy, totally aroused voice. "I'm pretty sure that isn't greedy. It sounds pretty selfless to me."

I moaned my disagreement. "No, I want the world to disappear so that nothing gets in the way of me trying to satisfy my appetite for you. I want everything you will give me."

Her nails dug into my biceps before she replied, "I want to give you everything. I want you to teach me some things, and I want us to discover things together."

"Damn Beautiful," I gritted out, having to take a deep breath to get control of my body before the motion of our fully clothed hips caused me to ruin my pants.

My cell phone rang twice before hers started in. I pushed myself up and ran my fingers through my hair in frustration. We needed to resolve this shit and soon so that I could get my wife back to our house in order to get enough privacy to finally do some of the things I needed to do with her.

"Is there any chance they'll leave us alone?" She asked quietly.

The pounding at the door answered that question before I could. Bobby's voice from the other side of the door came through as he said, "I'm not trying to interrupt man, but I figured you'd rather me knock than Ranger. Something big's gone down, and he wants us all in the conference room upstairs."

I didn't respond even though I accepted that we had to go. Bobby knocked once more and added, "He wanted us there five minutes ago."

"Alright mom," I yelled. "We're coming." I didn't have to hear it to know that Bobby just called me a smartass.

As we got ourselves ready to meet with the boss I began to run through various scenarios in my head of how we could get a little time free from interruptions so I could finally get the connection I needed with Stephanie.

After thinking it through in the elevator I realized this wasn't the kind of thing I wanted to rush through in a short window of opportunity. I needed a long stretch of uninterrupted hours to properly do what I wanted to Steph. As much as I hated the start and stop merry go round we seemed to have been on lately, I knew it was better to wait because the image of having her completely open to me convinced me all night long wasn't enough for me reclaim what was mine. And there was no doubt in my mind… Stephanie was definitely all mine.


	21. The Action Sequence

_All the characters from the Plum world are courtesy of JE._

_Fredda (Rangergirl1234), I can't thank you enough for working as the beta on this story, even with my crazy writing schedule._

_Amy (beancounter74) thank you for being the inspiration for Dr. Amy Walker below._

**Chapter 21 – The Action Sequence**

As soon as Steph and I walked in Ranger shut the door and sat at the head of the table to give us the information he called us up for. "I just got a call from a contact of mine in DC. Apparently, Herbert Stewart was murdered in his bedroom, and the body was just discovered. I trust his opinion when he says it was a professional hit with a single bullet between the eyes, no sign of struggle, no forced entry. This is going to be kept under the radar for as long as possible."

I looked around and saw relief on Steph and Bobby's face, but Amy's face was unreadable. "What's up doc?" I asked with a smile because I was quoting Bugs Bunny, and I always thought he was a great cartoon character.

She either didn't care much for cartoons or was too focused to pick up on the quote because she shook her head and asked, "Where are Miguel and Mateo?"

"I've got some calls to the guys I know in Columbia to see if they know," Ranger replied, understanding why she was asking. "But even if they're there, that doesn't mean they weren't the ones behind the hit."

"I know. It was just so quick and so cleanly done, it makes me wonder if they even had time to hear from Maria, get in touch with a hit man, and pull it off," Dr. Walker explained.

"It could have been one of Maria's guards," Stephanie offered as a viable explanation for how fast Stewart was taken out.

Dr. Walker thought then shook her head no. "Maria is in New York. Stewart was in DC. Geography would make that unlikely." I guess she had a point, but if Maria had access to a private plane, the timetable might be workable.

"Whoever did it," Bobby cut to the chase, "Does it mean that these two are safe now?"

Nobody had an answer to that question, at least not one they were willing to verbalize. "I'm guessing that I'm not going any where alone for a little while still, right?" Stephanie asked. I knew how much she hated sacrificing her freedom like this when the crazies set their sights on her. And in this case, it was a hundred percent true that it wasn't her fault.

I took her hand in mine and ran my thumb along the back of her thin wedding band. "I'll be doing the same thing," I offered as a concession to make her feel better. I was glad to see her relax a little.

We spent the next few hours talking through various possibilities, and Steph decided to monitor the press and the websites where she'd gotten information on Maria's schedule to see what kind of moves the family made in light of the recent "death" of her fiancé.

After we had reached the end of what could be done this evening we all stood up to leave. I caught Ranger's eye and asked, "Any reason why we can't go back to my condo for the night?"

He silently considered it and then shook his head no. "Too exposed. Why don't the four of you go to the Point Pleasant safe house for a day or two to relax while we wait this thing out? You'd have around the clock monitoring, and no one would expect you to go on vacation right now, so that should help too."

I looked at Stephanie to see how she felt about the idea of staying at the beach for a few days and the excitement plastered on her face made it all too clear that she was on board. Bobby and Dr. Walker were doing some kind of silent communication thing, and after a shoulder shrug by her, a head nod by Bobby, and a smile from the doc, they were ready to load up and join us.

"I'll go down with you, do an initial sweep, and help you get set up for a couple of days," Ranger volunteered.

"Thanks for letting us use the house," Stephanie said once all the details were sorted out.

He smiled at her, giving her a look that only she received from him and he told her, "Anything for you Babe."

I swallowed twice to keep the possessive growl from coming out. Then I had to turn and look away when Stephanie smiled in return to his comment and then kissed him on the cheek. I glared at Ranger as he grinned at her contact.

Ranger then laughed, which was a pretty rare sound, even to me. "What's so funny?" I asked, completely annoyed at how comfortable he was getting kisses from my wife.

"Hey, she's a part of the family," Ranger said as though it were a defense.

"Try again," I told him. "You don't let Aunt Alyssa kiss your cheek." Of course, the fact that Aunt Alyssa's mustache was thicker than her husband's could have been part of the reason why that was.

He grinned once more at replied, "Haven't you ever heard of kissing cousins?"

Dr. Walker muffled a laugh and Stephanie took my hand in hers once more. I grumbled through the elevator ride to the forth floor to get a bag for a few days away. Steph seemed to find my complaining more humorous that anything else, so I eventually gave up, figuring no one was going to see it my way.

Three exhausting hours later we were in the safe house at North of Point Pleasant with a private strip of beach and a mile on either side with no adjoining neighbors. It was a great location. The house sat up on a hill, preventing anyone from getting close without being seen from the house first. As far as houses go, this was a nice one with windows facing the ocean and a nice wooden deck out back. There were four bedrooms, three on the second floor, and one on the main floor. Because of my injuries, Steph and I took the suite on the ground floor to keep me from having to navigate any steps. Bobby and Dr. Walker took a room upstairs, and I couldn't help but notice they took the room on the opposite side of the house from the place where Steph and I were sleeping. I was relieved, as it would give us all more privacy that way.

Ranger came in and helped us bring in our luggage and the food Ella prepared for us to have on hand, along with the laptop that was fully loaded so Steph could continue keeping tabs on the Hernandez family's activities. It was agreed we'd hang out here for two to three days and then see where things stood as far as us resuming our normal lives. Hopefully, in that length of time, we'd be able to determine if Steph and I were no longer on anyone's radar screen for knowing too much.

There were only a few hours left before sunrise, so Ranger decided to stay at Stephanie's insistence and slept in one of the rooms upstairs. Of course, he chose to sleep in the room directly over where Stephanie and I were sleeping. I couldn't speak for Steph, but it definitely took away my desire to take advantage of the time we had alone in the room before breakfast.

It was probably for the best as by the time we all said goodnight and went to our prospective rooms, Steph was just barely staying awake. I took off my t-shirt and tossed it on the bed and then sat down to pull off my sweat pants to sleep in my boxers alone. Steph stripped down, picked up my discarded tee, and pulled it over her head as makeshift pajamas. "Did you forget to pack something to sleep in?" I asked.

She colored slightly and then replied, "No, but after you left I took to sleeping in your t-shirts, and I'm more comfortable in them than my pajamas."

I climbed in bed and stretched out my arm for her to assume the position we seemed to sleep in. She put her head on my shoulder, her hand on my chest, and her leg draped over my hip. I placed my hand over hers and I think we both went to sleep immediately.

The next morning I heard voices coming from the kitchen two rooms over and realized Ranger, Bobby, and Dr. Walker were all up. When I looked down Steph was in the exact position we'd gone to sleep in, so I pulled myself from underneath her, rearranged the covers to insure no one got a free show, and then went out to see why there was so much commotion.

"That stuff will kill you," I heard Ranger tell Dr. Walker.

"Look, it's not my fault you don't understand that food is not only to sustain us, but to be enjoyed," she retorted from the stove.

Apparently, they were debating the appropriate way to make an omelet. Ranger made his standard: egg whites only with low-fat cheese, spinach, onions, and peppers. The good doc had hers with the whole egg, two different kinds of real cheese, crumbled bacon, onions, tomatoes and peppers. Of the two, I had to agree that Dr. Walker's looked better.

"I have more protein, therefore I have more fuel for the day," she continued to argue.

"But you also have ten times as much fat and more unnecessary calories," Ranger tried to reason with her.

"Which I more than worked off with a morning run," she countered once more.

Those two were like oil and water. I didn't think they'd agree on too much. It worried me that Ranger would refuse to use her for our RangeMan assessments on that basis alone, and I hated what that would mean for Bobby. The way he looked at Dr. Walker was eerily similar to the way I looked at Steph. A long distance relationship wasn't going to work for those two; they needed to be together.

Before I could take the thought process any further, the glass across the front of the house shattered in a catastrophic wave of sound and motion. A small impact explosion went off, breaking down the barrier at the back of the house and allowing two people to come in. I was enough to the side of the kitchen that I was not seen. I backed up, never taking my eyes off the direction they were entering until I made it back to the bedroom. Steph was sitting up in the bed with a look of pure panic on her face.

I put my finger over my lips indicating I wanted her to be quiet, and then I went to my duffle and grabbed three guns; the small Sig went to Steph's nervous hands, but I watched her focus and steady herself as she pulled that determination I so admired up to the front to master her fear. "That's my girl," I mouthed to her with no sound. She understood and gave me a half smile before crawling out of bed not making a single sound.

I needed to get back out to the main room but I didn't want her following me. I held up my hand and tried to give her my most convincing stare urging her to not follow me. She shook her head no and looked to the door and back to me. Of course she wouldn't hide in here if her friends were in danger in the other room.

I tried a second time and her response was to step out in front of me as though she were going and I could be the one to stay behind. Oh hell no! I hobbled in front of her quickly and put an arm out to force her behind me. She placed her palm on my back, not pushing, just letting me know she was there, and that is how we made our way silently out of the room. Before we could get more than a few steps away from the bedroom we heard three rapidly fired shots and then Bobby call out, "Damn it!"

There was no reason to be quiet. I figured if Bobby were responding then the whole thing must be over so we moved quickly the last few feet down the hall and saw the gruesome scene in front of us.

Whoever it was that attempted to attack the house were both presumably dead in the scattered glass in the den. Bobby and Dr. Walker were both on their knees in the kitchen with their Glocks in one hand and their other hand on Ranger, who was on the floor in a substantial amount of blood.

I had to assume the three shots we heard were made when one of the intruders tried to take out Ranger, and Bobby and/or Dr. Walker took out the assailants.

Bobby jumped up and ran over to the cabinet where his medic bag had been tossed last night. I'd know him long enough to know he never went anywhere without it. Even on vacation there were certain supplies he absolutely refused to leave home without.

He started pulling out objects and then he asked Dr. Walker, "What do you need?"

Her hand was on Ranger's chest. Actually, most of her hand was on his chest, but it appeared a finger or two was literally _in_ his chest. "It hit an artery. We've got to go in now or he's going to bleed out."

Bobby didn't hesitate in giving her a scalpel. She looked at Bobby and said, "Shouldn't you be doing this, you're field trained."

He shook his head no. "My training doesn't include cardiology."

Seeing there was no other way to save his life she put one hand firmly on his chest, as though she were going to hold him down, and then proceeded to cut directly into his chest where the bullet entered. Bobby started filling a syringe with something and injected it directly into Ranger's neck. "That will keep him out for a little while, so you don't have to worry about movement," he explained what he'd done.

The two of them worked together like they had been in multiple field surgery situations. If it hadn't been my cousin and one of the closest friends of my wife, I might have dwelt more on how seamlessly they complimented each other and how fast they maneuvered.

Finally, I had to tear myself away and went to check on the two people bleeding on the floor in front of us. The first one was a male, maybe thirty and of Latino coloration, but I didn't recognize his face at all. A quick check of his pulse proved that he was dead. I rolled over the second body and was surprised at how light it was. When I ripped the mask off the face, I sucked in a quick breath. I put my fingers on the neck to prove what I thought was true. Maria Hernandez was dead on the floor at my feet. Apparently, she had no need of her cousins avenging her fiancé's death; she was perfectly capable of doing it herself.

"It's still leaking. This artery is like tissue paper. How many hits to the chest has he taken?" Dr. Walker asked, pulling my attention away from the scene at my feet.

"Can you resection or bypass it?" Bobby questioned.

"Not on the floor of the kitchen. This needs somebody with skills greater than what I've got," she argued, looking defeated.

"Amy, you know as well as I do he'll never survive transport to the hospital. At best, he's only got an hour before he bleeds out, and I'm betting it won't take that long. You can do this, he'll fight to keep going while you try, now what do you need?" Bobby was trying to get her to step up.

She didn't hesitate. "Get a cell phone and dial this number," she commanded. Bobby followed her instructions as she went through his bag and pulled out possible supplies.

A familiar voice answered the phone, "Dr. Walker," his cool voice answered giving nothing away.

"John, it's Amy. I need your help," she began, keeping her voice even.

"Where are you?" He asked, sounding more engaged.

"I'm in New Jersey, in a field situation with a gun shot wound to the chest. I've got him cracked open, and I've removed the bullet and closed the artery that was nicked, but it's still leaking. The artery tissue is paper thin; apparently this guy has taken shots to the chest before," she explained. I held my breath, hoping the brilliant surgeon would respond and not the embittered brother-in-law.

"How are you outfitted?" He asked, giving me hope that he would help.

"I've got a standard Army medic bag and everything you'd expect in a well equipped kitchen. He's on the floor, and I'm relatively certain things are clean, but this is about as far from an ideal situation as you can get. I'm also guessing based on his BP and blood loss I've got about half an hour tops to get this right," she leveled with him.

"Alright," John took control and began to talk Amy through the process of saving Ranger's life. She followed his instructions without hesitation, obviously trusting him completely and proving her skills as a surgeon. It is rare to see someone so accomplished, and to think that she was equally comfortable inside the body and inside the mind was amazing.

At the twenty minute mark John said, "Okay sit back and watch it to see if he's leaking."

I saw Bobby and Dr. Walker both looking from different angles, and Bobby spoke up first, "It's holding now."

John's breath came out over the line, proving he had been nervous that after all his best advice, talking her blindly through a very difficult surgery, that they wouldn't be able to fix this. "Close him up, and then you're going to need to get him a pint or two. Getting him some fresh blood will help his pressure and keep the shock from being as severe to his body."

"I'm not exactly close to a blood bank," she said with a little sarcasm.

"Haven't you ever watched MASH?" John said, making what had to have the first joke I'd ever heard him make. "Do a direct transfusion if you've got somebody with a compatible type."

"Thanks John," Dr. Walker said with a little more emotion in her voice. "You were the only person I knew that would talk me through this instead of trying to talk me out of it."

"Shit Amy, don't get all sentimental on me, or you'll force me to say something like the only person I'd trust something like this to other than myself would be you. Whoever the guy is, he was damn lucky you were there. Most people would have let him go." I smiled at the slight thawing between those two.

She hung up and then looked at Bobby and asked, "Any ideas what blood type he has?"

Bobby nodded. "I keep everybody's type on file at RangeMan. The only match between us is Stephanie."

Steph didn't hesitate. She walked from where she'd been standing behind me and entered the kitchen. "Where do you need me?"

Bobby jumped up and grabbed a towel from the hall bathroom and spread it out on the floor, so Steph wouldn't have to sit in the pooled blood there. She stretched out her arm, and Dr. Walker got a vein on the first try, hooking her up to Ranger's arm and beginning the process of giving him something to increase his chance of survival.

I went over to the edge of the make-shift OR and picked up the cell phone from the counter and called the control room, asking to be connected to Tank. I gave him the full run down of what happened, and he said he'd get an ambulance there as well as a team for clean up and analysis on the intruders. I hung up, relieved that the big guy was there. No one was a good as Ranger, but after having served as his right hand man for so many years, Tank was a good second in command. He'd take care of everything.

Eventually Amy pulled the tubing from between Ranger and Steph and talked to Bobby about various antibiotic treatments they needed to administer. I knew the conditions were less than sterile, so it made sense to want to do something soon to increase his chances of pulling through.

Stephanie made her way back to my side on shaky legs. I couldn't tell if it was from the blood she'd given or the stress of the last hour. I was grateful that my leg seemed to be holding me so that I could support her and take some of her weight as well to keep her upright.

The rescue squad arrived and Bobby and Dr. Walker worked together to get Ranger loaded in and both of them jumped in the back to ride to the nearest hospital. It was a high stress situation, but they were both level and calm. Ranger was stable, and considering how close he came to death just an hour earlier it was hard to imagine how they were coping with the adrenaline pumping through their systems.

Tank, Ram, Cal, and Hector showed up as the ambulance was pulling away. I figured it was probably for the best, so they didn't have to see the boss the way he was. I filled everyone in on what happened, stressing what Dr. Walker had done in fighting for Ranger's life.

Cal was the first to speak in the cold silence that followed my story. "Now that's just not fair that you get Steph and now Bobby has somebody that is nearly as amazing. There's only so many good catches in the world, and I'm worried that everyone else is getting them, leaving none for me."

Steph gave him half a smile and told him, "Lucky for you, you're such a great guy I'm sure there is a special woman out there that will rock your world."

The guys started processing the scene and I was worried about how weak Steph was looking, so I got Ram's attention and said, "Can you see if there's any juice in the fridge."

He looked at me strangely and asked, "You're thinking about breakfast with the mess in here?" Ram was pointing at the gruesome floor, thinking I was one twisted dude.

I tried to temper my anger and set him straight. "Not for me, I think Steph's blood sugar is dropping and after giving Ranger a pint or so after his surgery, I'm worried." The fact that I was able to explain all of that with her close to me, not disagreeing, only furthered my panic that she wasn't doing well.

Ram shut up and switched hats to be an excellent waiter. He found a jug of juice, poured her a glass, and banged through the cabinets to locate a straw. He tried handing it to Steph, but she had a blank stare on her face and wasn't responding.

I put my hand on her shoulder, trying to ease her form the trance she was in. "Beautiful," I called to her, taking the juice from Ram and holding the straw to her lips. She didn't respond verbally, but she did take the beverage, and I relaxed when she took a few long draws on the straw. At least she was getting some nutrition in her.

Tank called the sheriff's department to come secure the crime scene, figuring it was such a clear case of self defense that it was better to let these deaths go on record instead of letting the guys do one of their clean up jobs. Besides, we'd already gotten everything we could from the scene, so there was nothing left that we could do.

After the cops took our statements, Tank offered to drive Steph and I back to Trenton. She still wasn't talking, so I figured it was a good thing to get her back home so that when she finally snapped out of this she'd be in familiar surroundings.

The ride back was uncharacteristically silent. Just as we pulled into the garage at Haywood Steph looked at me and said simply, "Ranger nearly died."

I pushed her crazy hair back from her face and agreed. "Yea, Beautiful, he almost did, but Dr. Walker and Bobby worked hard to save him, and then you gave him a piece of you- which means he'll survive for sure." I sent up a quick prayer that the last phrase was true, because I didn't completely understand the bond between my wife and my cousin, but I knew it was deep, and if he died she'd fall apart.

I led her to my apartment and took us straight to the bathroom for a shower. Despite my instructions to keep it on, I took off my brace completely so that I could stand under the spray and take care of Stephanie. Since she arrived at the VA in New York, she'd been taking care of me, and for the first time in our marriage she clearly needed me. I was going to do everything my body could handle to be what she needed.

I pushed her under the spray and let the water wash away the blood that was on her skin from the safe house. I was rinsing out the shampoo from her hair when I saw what I thought was the first tear running down her face. It was a little hard to tell with the water all over her from the showerhead, but the pain in her eyes convinced me I was right. She was waking up from the shock of what happened and it was hitting her now. I didn't even feel the pain in my leg and knee as I pulled her to me and she sagged in my arms, forcing me to hold her up as she sobbed for what had happened.

I have no idea how long we stayed that way, but once I was pretty sure she was all cried out, I shut off the water and wrapped her in the large towel hanging up outside the shower. "I'm sorry," she attempted to apologize.

"Nothing to be sorry for," I corrected her, tying a towel around my hips as well.

"I don't know why I fell apart like that," she seemed confused by her outburst, but I wasn't. Hell there were plenty of times in my career that I felt like if I just had a way to get the emotion out that I'd be able to handle the stress of the situation much better. But I'm a guy, we bottle, we don't pour. Something told me it took a lot more strength to let it all out, and that was just one more piece of proof that Steph was the strongest person I knew.

We put on some comfortable clothes and cuddled up on the sofa in the living room. I checked my phone and saw I had a text from Bobby saying they were at the local VA with Ranger, and that the doctors there were pleased with his condition considering what happened. He also commented that Amy was currently ripping some poor orderly a new one for his careless handling of Ranger, and he figured she'd be running the joint within the hour.

Steph finally relaxed when I shared that news with her. We stretched out with her spooning her back to my chest and with my arms wrapped around her. I whispered, "Just settle down Steph and try to rest a bit. I'll be right here."

Her eyelids lowered, and she let out a soft sigh as her features relaxed. I felt honored that she trusted me enough to rest so completely with me there to protect her. Then I realized she had every reason to feel that way; I'd willingly give my life to protect hers. The threat that had followed us from New York had been eliminated, but I knew how her life generally worked, and it was only a matter of time before something new came up to cast a shadow over our lives.

Right now, there was no shadow. There was a faint light from the windows, and the stillness of uninterrupted time with her in my arms. My heart was full, my body was touching hers, and I was confident that when the time came that we needed to worry about our safety again that we would face it together.

For better or worse, sickness and health, 'til death do us part was nothing. What we had would endure everything life could throw our way, and when death tried to separate us, I knew it would only be temporary. An eternity wasn't long enough for me to love her.


	22. Luckiest Man

_I deserve no credit for blatantly using the characters created by JE._

_Fredda (Rangergirl1234) thank you so much for your steady stream of encouragement and your willingness to work through my confusion as the beta on this story._

_Amy (beancounter74) thanks again for being the real life Dr. Amy Walker. _

**Chapter 22 – Luckiest Man**

"Hey Beautiful," I said into my cell phone after seeing Steph's name on my caller ID.

"I just wanted you to know that I'm running a little late," she stated as her reason for calling.

"Having trouble finding what you needed at the mall?" I asked, curious what was going on.

"No, I got to the VA to pick up Amy so we could go to Macy's, but she's still in with the hospital administrator," Steph said quietly, like she was trying to keep from being overheard.

"Why is she in there?" I asked, getting up to limp over to Bobby's cubicle to let him know something was going on with his girl. I switched the phone to speaker as I leaned on the edge of his desk.

Bobby looked at me with a confused expression until I put a finger up in the air telling him to wait a minute, and then we both heard Steph's voice. "Well, we were on our way out when we passed by a room where a patient was complaining that he refused to wear a gown anymore. He stated that he was hurt by a roadside bomb, not here for a sex change operation, and he refused to wear a dress for another day."

When she paused I said, "I don't see why that caused Dr. Walker to need to shut herself in with the administer."

"I'm not done yet," Steph said, effectively telling me not to interrupt again. "She went barreling in there and saw one of the young shrinks that she refers to as 'the babys' trying to threaten the much older soldier that if he didn't calm down and allow the nurse to put the gown on him that he'd have to be sedated."

"What happened?" I asked with a smile on my face, knowing this was going to be good.

Steph chuckled first and then told us, "From what I could see at the door, she grabbed the syringe from the 'baby' and injected it in the shrink's arm, making him hit the floor almost immediately. The she reached over and tore off his doctor's coat and dress shirt until she reached the t-shirt on the unconscious doctor. She pulled it over his head, turned it right side out, and then tossed it to the soldier on the bed, telling him if he would just wait for a little bit she'd be back with some pants for him." I knew this was going to be good.

"The patient was grinning from ear to ear and asked her what she was going to do with the unconscious lump on his floor. Amy pulled the nurse call button and when the orderly came in she very seriously asked them to take the doctor to his office and lied by saying he apparently passed out. Then she asked the orderly to return with a pair of sweat pants suitable for the patient. Of course, she then got an earful about how he'd been treated since he got to the VA, and the longer he talked the madder she got. When he was done Amy went barreling straight to the administration offices and demanded to see the man in charge. It took about five minutes for someone to come out, and Amy practically shoved him back into his office talking about soldier morale, qualified doctors, and a whole other list of stuff I didn't understand."

"How long ago was that?" I asked, curious how long Dr. Walker had been reading this guy the riot act.

Steph made a humming sound like she was considering the answer and then said, "About an hour."

"Ten bucks says she comes out of his office with a job offer," I commented.

"At this point, I don't care if she comes out with a job offer or her tail between her legs, I just want to go shopping," Steph whined.

There was some noise in the background, and then we heard Dr. Walker's voice from a distance say, "Stephanie, I'm really sorry, but I'm going to be here for a while going over protocol with Dr. Gordon. Any way we can reschedule our trip to the mall?"

Steph bowed out gracefully, saying she should really go check on Ranger anyway, and they could go another day this week. When she got back on the phone I could hear the disappointment in her voice.

I wasn't sure what to say to make her feel better, but I hated thinking she wasn't getting to do something she really wanted to. Bobby, however, knew exactly what to say. "Hey Bomber, it's Bobby."

"Hey Bobby," she replied politely with none of her usual gusto.

"I was thinking about you this morning and thinking about your debt problem." I could tell from his face that he was just teasing, but his voice sounded dead serious.

Steph jumped in, "What debt problem? I'm current on all my bills, and since I've been working at RangeMan again my cards are mostly paid off."

Bobby started cracking up and clarified, "No not money. We were playing truth or dare, and everyone had a turn but you when we were interrupted. You wanted a dare, but we got the call about Stewart before I had a chance to give you the challenge."

"Hmmm," Steph sounded interested. "Alright, I don't have anything else to do." She'd taken the bait.

"Are you still at the VA?" Bobby asked to be sure.

"Yup, what do I have to do?" She was clearly willing to finish the game. Steph was always fair, so there was no doubt when Bobby started down this road that she'd step up and finish things the right way.

Bobby grinned bigger and said, "Then I dare you to go to Ranger's room and convince him to bring Amy on as the shrink for RangeMan part time."

"I don't know Bobby," Steph wasn't convinced this was a good idea. "I don't usually interfere with how Ranger runs his business.

"Come on Steph, you picked dare, and this would not only finish the game, but it would give you a chance to do a good deed for the company and a great deed for me." He was nearly begging at this point.

She let out a long breath before saying, "Alright, I'll give it a shot."

I hung up a few minutes later and held out my hand for Bobby to hit his knuckles to mine. He'd done a good thing for both our women at once. I wasn't willing to tell him that, but I felt like it at least deserved a fist bump of thanks.

Three hours later my ass was asleep, and I was about to throw my computer out the window. Being on modified duty while I finished my PT was getting on my ever living nerves. Just before I took out my frustration on the technology in front of me, the elevator doors dinged open and from the comments from the guys I could tell Steph had just arrived on the floor.

I felt her hands on my shoulder and her lips on my neck. My frustration with being stuck inside was forgotten, and I shut my eyes to focus on her presence and the effect it was having on me.

She kissed her way from the center of my neck to the shell of my ear and whispered, "Where's Bobby?"

I smiled and replied, "You know, it's usually sexier if you don't whisper another guy's name in your husband's ear."

She gave me a throaty laugh and replied, "I need to pay off my debt, and then if you don't mind leaving your desk for a while, I'd like to take you home."

"Bobby!" I practically yelled, wanting to do anything necessary to get Steph alone as soon as possible.

He jogged over looking concerned. Steph stood up, but I put my hand over one of hers to keep the contact on my shoulder. She tightened her fingers, letting me know she wasn't going anywhere.

"I just wanted to let you know that I am no longer in your debt," she said with a smile.

"What happened," Bobby asked leaning on my desk, eager to hear.

Steph started talking quickly. "I talked to Ranger and told him I thought it would be great for the guys to have someone steady they could talk to, and someone they trust to do their annual assessments. He tried to give me a line about how it's best if the person assessing them doesn't know them, but I fired back that the fact she knew him gave her the determination to fight all the harder to save his life when he was bleeding out on the kitchen floor. Apparently, he didn't realize everything that happened, and by the time I was done telling the story he was stunned. He said when he's released tomorrow that he'll want to talk to you about how you see her fitting in, but he could definitely see the benefit of it the way I described it."

Bobby jumped up and wrapped her in a tight hug, stealing the contact she had been maintaining with me. I tried not to get my shorts in a knot, but I hated watching other people press her body into theirs. The only thing that made this tolerable was the fact that I trusted her completely, and that I knew Bobby was completely gone over Dr. Walker. The only person I'd seen fall as hard as him for his girl was me over Steph.

When they pulled apart Bobby was still thanking her in a rambling way. Finally, he said, "I'm going to see him now to try and work some of this out. That way, when I take Amy out tonight, I should have something to tell her." With a final kiss on her cheek, he was gone.

"Wow," Steph said turning her attention back to me. "He seemed a little happy about that."

I laughed at her understatement. "You still want to head down to four?"

She shook her head no. "Dinner first?" I asked, a little confused. Just a minute ago she said she wanted to go home after talking to Bobby.

I got another negative response. "What you want to do, Beautiful?"

She bent over, giving me a great view down the v-neck cut of her shirt to whisper in my ear. "I know you've been working on stairs with Bobby for your PT, so I want to go back home, to your condo. I want us to get in that big whirlpool tub and get clean, then I want us to have dinner in bed, and spend the rest of the night there."

My throat seemed to have forgotten how to swallow, but my legs were still working fine. I stood up with no response other than a low growl of approval for her plan. When we passed by the control room, I stuck my head in and told Cal, "I'm going back to our condo and don't want to hear from any of you until I get back on the clock tomorrow afternoon."

Cal knew exactly what I was saying. "Take it easy on him, Angel; he's only got one good leg."

Steph blushed, but she wasn't going to let a comment like that go. "Cal, you know better than that. He's got one injured leg, one solid leg, and one that is beyond belief amazing."

I doubled over laughing at the fact that Cal's entire face turned red enough to camouflage his tattoo at Steph's insinuation that I had a bum leg, a good leg, and a preverbal third leg that was just fine.

Cal managed to scoff out a, "Be good you two," as we walked to the elevator.

I raised an eyebrow at Steph as she hit the G for the garage level, and she started answering the questions I didn't even know to ask. "I don't know about you, but I'm getting sick and tired of everybody interrupting us every time we try for some alone time. I figured if we got to the condo, locked the door, and turned on the alarm, we wouldn't have to go back downstairs until we're both due back at the office."

We each opened our car doors and she added, "Plus I need some time with you – just you. I hope you don't mind." At the last phrase she almost seemed uncertain.

"You get us home as fast as you can safely can, and I'll show you all night long just how much I don't mind," I told her, trying to keep my tone light but hearing the heavy need in my voice anyway.

We pulled up to the space directly in front of my door, and I realized this was the first time I'd been back home to this condo since I left on my mission. It was exactly the same. There was a note pad on the bar in the kitchen that I'd made some notes on regarding some businesses I thought RangeMan should check out for security contracts. It hadn't been the moved. It's like Steph had kept everything exactly the same as when I left as some sort of shine. It both touched and bothered me at the same time.

She must have seen the contradictions on my face because she asked, "What?" When I didn't answer right away, she started talking on her own. "I didn't move anything that was yours because I refused to accept that you weren't coming back. I figured if I started moving things around, erasing you from your own home, then it was giving up on you. And damn it, I couldn't give up on you…on us."

By the end there were tears in her eyes, and she was struggling hard to keep them from falling. I made my way to her and pulled her into my arms, resting my chin on her hair. "Aww, Steph, I didn't want you putting your life on hold for me. At the time, it seemed like I was doing the right thing, but I guess it was really a selfish move to tie you to me and then leave."

She shook her head no, but didn't pull away. "I was tied to you anyway. Marrying you just gave me the ability to prove why I was freaking out about you being gone."

I understood that completely. Hooking my bent index finger under her chin, I lifted her face so I could bring my lips down to her. I tried to move slowly and gently, knowing we weren't going to be interrupted, so there was no reason to rush through this. For some reason it felt like this was finally going to be the homecoming I'd prayed for when I left.

My lips touched hers and the sparks and pull I always felt when I was kissing Steph was definitely there, but I fought giving into it. Instead, I kept things light and teased my lips over hers. It took a lot of willpower to keep holding back when her hands tightened around two fistfuls of my shirt, but the moment was perfect and I refused to rush though it just because part of me was getting antsy behind my zipper.

The uncertainty and worry that had been present in Steph earlier when she was explaining why she hadn't touched my things was melting away, and I wasn't moving anywhere until it was gone. Finally her hands began to relax and flatten themselves against my chest. Her mouth opened as an invitation, but she didn't try to take over or pull me to her to hurry things along. We had all night and it seemed she was on board with us taking every minute of that time together.

Her lips were soft and warm against mine, and I absentmindedly thought I'd never give her hell for all the gloss and shit she put on again because I was truly loving the feel of them. When she changed the angle of her head slightly, her tongue came out, quickly moistening her bottom lip before dipping back into her mouth.

That was all it took to bulldoze my control completely away. Before she could close her lips once more my tongue made its way into her mouth- exploring, tasting, and taking the warmth she had to offer. I was trying to keep it from becoming overly forceful, but I wanted to leave no doubt how much I wanted her – all of her. From the simplicity of kissing her softly to the fullness of what I knew would come later, I wanted it all. And damn it, if I didn't get some more of it soon I wasn't sure I would make it.

Steph let out a long drawn out moan that made my hips roll forward to press into her. It was as if my body was responding on instinct alone to the call of her desire. She pulled back slightly and whispered, "Upstairs?"

It was a good suggestion. I mean, if we wanted to end up in the bedroom at any point tonight I probably needed to tackle the fourteen steps from here to the second floor while I still had most of my physical abilities at my disposal. I sat the alarm while she went to the kitchen and started pulling things together to take up with us.

Then I tackled the slow process of hauling my ass upstairs. I knew I could do it, I mean I'd done enough work with Bobby in the gym to know my body could handle this, but I also needed to do it to prove it to myself. What is the standard for heart attack victims? When you can climb a flight of stairs without getting winded then you're clear to have sex. And damn it all, I was going to have sex tonight, so this flight of stairs was going down.

It wasn't fast, and by the last couple steps I'm pretty sure I pulled myself up with my arms on the stair rail more than with the power of my legs alone. Yet I still felt like I'd done something huge when I got to the top and briefly considered doing my Rocky impression just to celebrate. Of course, the sound of Steph coming up behind took a little of my bravado away as I tried to play it cool like it was no big deal that I'd just climbed a single flight of steps.

Steph's face was radiant, lit up with the most breathtaking smile when she saw me looking at her. "I am the luckiest man in the world," I confessed, giving her the honest reason for my good mood.

She sat the bag down beside the bed in our room and then walked slowly to me. "I think you might be over exaggerating a little," she tried to contradict me.

I put my hands on her hips and pulled them tight against mine. I watched her eyes get larger with the evidence of my happiness at us being alone pressed into her. "Why Mr. Santos," she tried to be coy, "I think you're happy to see me."

I leaned down and scraped my teeth along her neck. "Mrs. Santos, I am over the moon freaking beside myself to see you." It didn't really do justice to how I felt, but I figured it would at least give her a small idea of it.

We easily fell back into our position from downstairs, pressed against each other and kissing like there was no tomorrow. And as much as I loved kissing her, I needed more, so much more. Trying to keep my focus, I moved back to her long neck and alternated kissing, licking, and grazing the skin with my teeth. I could tell from the sound of Steph's breathing and occasional moan that she was enjoying what I was doing, but she apparently needed more as well because her hands began to move, untucking my shirt tail, and pulling the RangeMan t-shirt up for me to pull off. I only broke the contact between us long enough to rip the shirt over my head, and then I picked up where I left off, about two inches above her collarbone.

As wonderful as it felt to have her body against me, I needed her clothes off so that my skin was on hers. For weeks since my return we'd had too much shit between us, and all that needed to stop now. The danger was gone, the interruptions had probably been stopped by relocating to the condo, and my body and mind were whole enough to fully participate. Yea, it was way past time for me to take my wife. With that thought I said, "Clothes."

Before I could turn it into a whole sentence she finished it for me, "They have to go – now."

It took only seconds for the cotton between us to disappear. She was faster than me and knelt in front of my perch on the edge of the bed to help me get the brace off my leg and get my pants off. I took in her naked body in front of me and didn't know whether to say something about how amazing she was or just jump in. I was a far cry from a virgin, but being in front of her now, I wasn't sure what to do next. I guess the reality that this was really the beginning of our lives together was finally setting in.

Steph settled her hands on my knees and slowly ran them up my thighs before working them back down to my knees. She started out on the outside edges, but with each pass up and then down she moved closer to the middle. On the final trip up she went exactly where I wanted her, and her right hand grasped my erection, not hesitating to squeeze me slightly and stroke up and then down. Her left hand hesitated slightly and then moved down to caress my balls, making me think my whole groin was on fire. This wasn't going to work; I'd never last like this with her pouring the full intensity of her attention on me. There weren't enough baseball stats and battle plans to keep my head distracted for long enough.

I put my hands over hers, stopping her masterful work on my body, and tugged her up so that she was straddling my hips. As the heat from her core landed on me I began to wonder if this was an improvement. "Les," Steph said my name getting my attention away from my cock and back up to her face. "It's been months for me, and I'm not going to last," she warned me while planting light kisses along the ridge of my ear. It made me wonder if she were a mind reader.

I was thinking, 'thank God', but I had the good sense to just say, "Beautiful, we've got all night, and this isn't going to be a one time deal."

My words must have been what she was looking for because her hips started moving, immediately succeeding at driving me insane. The friction, heat, and moisture between us was going to make me come, and I was determined not to lose myself until I was inside my wife.

"Steph, Baby, I need to be inside you," I tried to explain it and hated that I was being so course with her. She deserved so much more.

I have to assume she didn't mind though because she lifted herself up slightly on her knees and then angled her hips, catching my tip at her entrance. She only paused for a brief second or two before literally ramming herself down, pushing me deep inside her. "God…Damn!" I yelled out from the combination of the pleasure, the shock, and mind blowing heaven of finally being in her.

She stopped moving completely when I put my hands on her hips. I needed a second to get over the shock and reboot my brain. When I felt like I had at least a little self control, I loosened my grip and pushed into her. She gave me the sexiest sound I've ever heard as a response, and I couldn't stop the cocky grin from plastering itself on my face. She wanted this as much as I did.

With that realization, I used my hands on her hips to help set the rhythm and tried hard to keep my eyes open so that I could absorb every detail of this first time together. All too soon my body refused to be controlled, and I knew I was about to lose my vision briefly because I could only keep so many of body's systems firing through the mother of all orgasms that was about to rip through my body. When Steph's muscles began to clamp down on me and I heard her moaning my name over and over, I knew she was there too, so I let go and let the white lights behind my eyelids come while wave after wave of pleasure came over me.

I felt like half of my body had just shot out through the small connection, and I was a toss between feeling like wet noodles and just wanting to lay down and recuperate, and completely amazed that I was still rock solid hard. How my body could still be holding onto an erection after that much of a release was a complete mystery. I waited for a minute or two to see how Steph was fairing and to see if I would gradually soften with time, but that didn't happen.

I hoped Steph was okay for a round two – right now. She moved to crawl off of me and I let her lay down on the bed, knowing that she wouldn't want to stay on her knees for too long. She let out the most wonderful sigh of contentment, and I was determined to hear it again. She stretched out on her side with her back to me, so I spooned up behind her, not trying to hide the arousal pressing into her back.

I moved her hair away from her neck and fanned it out on the pillow behind her and then ran my arm under her neck so that I was supporting some of her head. My right hand I put on her shoulder and then slowly moved down her arm to her side and down her hip, trying to touch as much as possible without tickling her. I didn't mind a good playful romp sometimes, but that was not what I was after right now.

Not allowing my hand to linger anywhere too long, I made small circles on her leg and then moved back up to her stomach and up to her amazing breasts. As soon as my fingers ran around her nipple she gave me a trademark moan and leaned back into me. I pushed my leg between hers, forcing her right leg to bend at the knee and lift away from its twin still straight on the bed. I moved my body so that I could move slowly between her thighs with each roll of my hips, pushing my cock over her wet core and to her bundle of nerves at the front.

I refused to rush and let my movements be about setting a fire so hot it would consume us both. My hips kept a slow pace, rocking back and forth, while my hand moved from one nipple to the other and my mouth slowly placed kisses along her neck, occasionally sucking in the skin between my teeth, marking her for the world to see that she was mine.

Her arm moved and gripped my neck, pulling my mouth tighter to her skin before letting her nails scratch over my scalp with just enough force to boarder the fine line between pain and pleasure.

"Les, please," she started to softly beg. I didn't respond with words, only making a low groan to acknowledge that I'd heard her. I did begin to roll the nipple between my thumb and index finger while pulling slightly to get as much sensation as possible out of the movement against her skin. She sucked in a loud breath and then tried again, "Please, Lester."

I refused to be rushed, wanting to make this time last. I bent the arm that was supporting her head and managed to get my hand on her other breast. Lavishing them both with attention only made her noises increase. Her hips began to mirror the movement of mine and between the pre-cum practically seeping from me and the heat and moisture between her legs, we were smoothly gliding together. The knowledge that all I had to do was roll a little forward and alter the angle of my hips by a fraction to get inside her was a heady rush.

When it seemed Steph was reduced to begging, "Please, Les…I can't….God, so good…I need….please," I knew we'd waited long enough.

I didn't warn her at all, instead I re-angled my hip and on the next thrust I rolled into her, sheathing myself all the way in. "Yes!" She screamed when we were joined.

I felt the same way, but didn't think I had enough control over my vocal chords to say it. I tried to keep the pace slow like it had been in order to make the connection last longer, but Steph wasn't having any of that. "Les," she tried to get my attention, but I continued to keep the metered pace. "Damn it, Les, I need to come."

And that did it. Despite my mind thinking it was a good idea to keep it slow and sensual, my body responded to her command like a dog doing tricks for a bone. My hips began to increase the tempo, and the force I used to drive into her surprised me. Suddenly, my focus was solely on giving her the greatest orgasm of her life.

I moved my hand back to her nipple and began to tease it while keeping the faster, harder thrusts from behind, and all too soon my balls began to tighten just as her muscles gripped me again. "Yes, oh yes!" Steph screamed as my heat poured into her. We both stilled and then slowed down the thrusts, trying to milk all the pleasure from this experience as our minds came back to us, trying to understand how we lived the last few months without this kind of experience.

My eyes wanted to shut as the waves of pleasure began to decrease and the cover of exhaustion began to take its place. Steph pulled my arm around her, keeping us spooned together with me still between her legs. "Don't move," she said in a groggy, slurred speech.

"Can't," I replied, trying to assure her I'd obey and that I was incapable of anything else at the moment.

"Perfect," she said on an exhale. "You are…that was…perfect."

And damn if I couldn't agree more. I was pissed that all the shit kept us from doing that weeks ago, but the place where I was floating right now left me so overwhelmed with how good it felt to be inside my wife, surrounding her with my body, in a safe place that we called our home, I couldn't stay mad about what hadn't been. I finally understood what it meant to live in the present.

I couldn't change the past, hell it brought me to his moment so I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to. I couldn't guess the future, but knowing Steph it wasn't all going to be peace and quiet, so it was probably best that I didn't try.

What I did know was that in this moment I was whole, and I was counting myself the luckiest man alive.

Just before my sappy thoughts could get too far gone Steph nuzzled back, trying to get even closer to me and asked, "All night long?"

Just like that my eyes opened, my hips moved, and my head was back in the game.

That's right, I am the luckiest man alive and from the sounds of it, I'm about to get luckier.


	23. Backwards

_All the characters below are compliments of JE._

_Fredda (Rangergirl1234) thank you so much for all your hard work as the beta on this story. From start to finish you have been fantastic!_

_Amy (beancounter74) thank you for allowing me to use you as the model for Dr. Amy Walker. Hopefully you have enjoyed your chance to be in fanfiction as much as I've enjoyed writing you._

**Chapter 23 – Backwards**

_Six Months Later_

There is a short list of things that I absolutely love. Stephanie, of course, is at the top of that list. Typical other things rank pretty high too, like righting a wrong by beating the shit out of somebody that deserves it, having a brother like Bobby even if we don't share the same parents, hanging out with Bobby, the shrink and my woman – the fab four as the guys have taken to calling us. But the feeling of waking up slowly as the fog of passing out from exhausted pleasure, after making love to Steph for hours, is probably the newest revelation of things I absolutely love.

I should be used to the feeling by now. It is rare that a night goes by that we don't connect physically, but some nights are more intense and…well, just _more_. Yesterday I'd been on a surveillance shift with Bobby, playing I Spy to pass the time, when we both got a Bomber Alert text on our phone. Her car had suddenly gone off-line in front of a skip's house. Bobby must have read his text faster than me because before I could get to the address listed in the text, he had started the truck, put it in drive, and was using his military commander voice to tell me to take deep breaths and put my head between my knees. I turned my head to tell him I wasn't some pansy ass twit having a panic attack, but the fuzzy vision and inability to take a breath deep enough to say anything pretty much drove Bobby's point home, so I sucked up my pride, took a deep breath, and got up close with the upholstery of the seat cushion.

Once I was back in control I sat up just in time for Bobby to put the truck in park so we could both run like hell to find out what just happened. We were a block from the plume of smoke, so we had to walk it the rest of the way. By the time we got to the scene I was frantic to find her. Bobby put a hard hand on my shoulder, getting my attention and helping to stop my emotions from getting away from me. I saw him pointing and on the other side of the burning Honda Accord that had been Steph's mode of transport I saw her. She was sitting on the sidewalk with Big Dog and Carl standing there taking her statement.

Without even thinking about it my feet moved me around the firefighters to get to her side. When she saw me pushing my way through the other responders she stood up and met me half way. My mouth couldn't form any questions, but my hand reached out and cupped her cheek. She put her hand on mine and leaned into my touch before assuring me, "I'm okay. I wasn't even close to the car, and it wasn't my fault at all. Two guys were in a fight, and one of them pulled out a gun to shoot the other one but got the magic gas tank spot on my car instead. I heard the boom and stayed away, waiting for the circus to arrive." She managed to answer all my questions so that my heart could begin to beat on its own once more.

I pulled her tightly to me, running my hands up and down her back to remind myself that she was okay, she wasn't hurt, she was standing in front of me in one piece, and no one had tried to take her away from me. "You done?" I asked Big Dog, who had been watching us with a curious expression on his face.

He looked down at his tablet where he'd been making notes for her statement and said, "Yea, she's good to go." He took a step back and then stopped, like he'd made a decision about something. "Hey man, you're good with her. I mean, it's got to be hard to get this kind of call, but you handled it good. We've known her since she was little, and we've always wondered what the right kind of reaction would be to this kind of thing. Apparently, this was it."

I looked down and saw Steph smiling up at me. My mind flashed a few pictures of various scenes I'd arrived on when she was with Morelli and remembered how he would yell at her and turn it into a huge uncomfortable scene. Ranger tended to make light of it, as though he were laughing at her, even though we all knew that wasn't the case. He was so damned relieved she hadn't been hurt, but he wasn't sure what to do with the emotion, so he had to make light of it to keep from freaking out. I hadn't thought of how I'd react when the time came, but it was nice to know the people that had been watching the adventure that was the Bombshell Bounty Hunter thought I did alright. I didn't need their approval, but it was given anyway. "Thanks," I finally told him, turning my attention back to the woman in my arms.

We stood there looking into each other's eyes for a while before I felt a shift in the air around us. As far as I knew the firemen were still working on her car, the police were still securing the scene, and the crowd of curious onlookers was still ogling what was going on. But suddenly, it was like all the activity around us faded and we were all that mattered. "Home?" I suggested and received a slow nod of assent.

Bobby dropped us off at our condo without me clarifying where we needed to go. Strangely, no words were spoken for the whole trip, and by the time we got the front door unlocked I felt like the electricity between us was making me twitchy. I needed her. She must have felt the same way because while I was locking the door and setting the alarm, she was undoing the buttons on her shirt. When I turned around to face her I got a great view of her throwing the shirt on the floor in the den and moving her hands to undo the button on her jeans while moving to climb the steps. I was temporarily glued to the floor, but when her jeans came sailing down the stairs to land on the floor in front of me, I knew my nearly naked wife was up there and once again my feet seemed to be capable of getting me where I needed to be.

She was laying back on the bed with her elbows lifting her slightly when I walked in. "I thought I was going to have to start without you," she teased me.

My cock started throbbing, like it was trying to object to the idea by banging its way through my zipper. Taking the hint, I threw my shirt on the floor and toed off my boots while undoing my pants to pull them off. When I stood up again to stalk to over to her she grinned at me appreciatively and said, "I never get tired of seeing that."

"Keep talking Beautiful," I teased back. "Tell me what else you never get tired of."

She made a mock thinking hard face and then came back with, "I never get tired of learning new things." She had thrown down the challenge, and I was genetically incapable of walking away from it.

"Lucky for you I'm a damn good teacher," I told her, lowering my body on top of hers. The feel of her warm body under mine brought back all that had just happened and I lost the ability to play anymore. "I was scared," I admitted with no shame.

She knew better than to try and make a joke in return. Her hands ran though my hair, using her grip there to pull me closer. "I'm okay, Les. Feel me underneath you, and know that I'm okay." She was giving herself to me, knowing that I needed to feel it in addition to hearing it.

We'd spent enough time together that she knew how capable I was of teasing her, pleasing her for hours with foreplay, but that wasn't going to happen right now. I needed to feel the life of her surrounding me, and without any warning I moved in order to push into her. I looked in her eyes, unable to look away, letting our bodies move together. Slowly my mind accepted what she had promised was true. She was fine, completely unharmed, and here with me. Our pace was unhurried, each thrust serving as a reminder that she was alive. My heart went from an intense ache, from the fear of losing the single most important thing in my life, to an intense heat of realization that I physically needed her in order to truly live. That brief period when I didn't know what had happened was enough to drive home that she was as vital to me as my heartbeat.

We had never maintained eye contact this long, this intense, before when we were making love, and it suddenly hit me that she was teaching me something new this time. I might know a few tricks to give her pleasure, positions she might not have thought of, or methods to maximize the effect for her, but when it came to pouring your heart into another person Steph was definitely the master, and I sought only to try to keep up.

Her eyes blinked as though she were working hard to keep them open, wanting to prolong the connection. Our bodies were joined, our hearts were eternally bound, and at this moment I could see her soul peering into mine, and I needed that to continue. I moved my hand to caress her face, hoping it would help her to keep her eyes open. She sighed a sound of need and pleasure that bypassed my ears and went straight to my heart. She was getting just as much from me as I was from her.

Eventually, the pleasure of what we were doing began to build, and neither of us could fight it any longer to make it last. When we came together, it was quiet, with our eyes still locked and it was the single most meaningful orgasm I'd ever had. We stayed joined as our bodies recovered, and without losing the connection we rolled over so that she was on top of me and we began again.

We stopped long after the moon had reached its peek in the sky and only because physical exhaustion made us, but I pulled her to me, surrounding her smaller body with my stronger one to keep us as connected as possible even as we slept.

My mind came back on-line slowly with the sun streaming through the bedroom window. I didn't open my eyes at first, letting my mind replay the night we'd shared. I never wanted to get another scare like the one I got yesterday, but at the same time, I'd give just about anything for the connection we built last night, so I can't say it was entirely a bad thing to have gone through.

I struggled to open my eyes and looked at Steph still sleeping curled up into my body. She fit against me perfectly, and I always marveled at how much I liked having her there. I rarely slept with a woman before Steph. Sure, I had sex with plenty of women, but I never stayed. I didn't see the point really. But with Steph I found it was physically painful to be away from her right after we had made love.

My hand brushed the curls away from her face as softly as I could manage, so I could see her without the obstruction covering up part of her cheeks. There wasn't a time that I didn't think of her as beautiful, but watching her sleep, completely at peace like this, hooked every protective, manly instinct inside me. I knew she could take care of herself, but God, I wanted to do it for her. I wouldn't take away her freedom, but I wanted to be with her through whatever life threw our way.

I watched her, uncertain of how long we stayed this way, but I noticed the very moment she began to wake up. A lovely little smile came over her lips and her hips pushed back into mine, cupping the hard evidence of how long I'd been staring at her with her backside.

"Good morning, Mr. Santos," she said in her morning voice.

I moved once again to maximize the contact between us, "Good morning, Mrs. Santos," I replied.

"What time is it?" She asked, trying to put off opening her eyes for as long as possible.

I turned to check the clock and told her, "0930."

She made a happy humming sound, knowing neither of us were to be on the clock until noon. I knew where her mind was going with that knowledge, and my body was apparently more than ready, but her stomach chose that moment to remind us that we missed dinner last night and it wasn't prepared to skip breakfast too.

Knowing it was futile to resist, I rolled over and suggested we grab something to eat. We got up and she stumbled around, finally getting her eyes to focus enough to grab my shirt from the floor and put it on. I watched her and stretched my knee and leg, knowing it was always stiff first thing in the morning. Once I'd been up for a while it would relax, and I hardly noticed the changes in it unless I ran for more than five or six miles. Then it would begin to ache until after I stopped, treating me to hours of sore throbbing, but I refused to complain. I could have lost it completely, so dealing with a little discomfort in exchange for the life I was living wasn't going to get me down.

We went about our normal breakfast routine with the practiced ease of two people completely comfortable with each other. Steph got a big bowl of Lucky Charms and sat the milk on the bar after pouring it in her cereal. Then she hopped up on the counter top to eat, wearing only my t-shirt and a smile. I fixed myself a bowl of cheerios and sliced a banana on top before taking the milk she left for me and dousing it in. I put the milk away, grabbed a spoon, and stood, leaning into the cabinet between her legs to enjoy being so close while occasionally trying to steal a marshmallow from her bowl.

We were nearly done when the buzzer went off, alerting us that someone was downstairs. I checked the camera and saw Bobby and the doc smiling at each other. I looked over to Steph and said, "The other half of our foursome is here. Do you want me to let them in?"

"Sure," Steph replied, leaning over to grab another refill of cereal before anyone knew it was her second bowl.

I buzzed them in and opened the front door, knowing they'd let themselves in and shut it. Then I went back to my spot at the counter, refusing to leave the spot I loved to stand in for breakfast.

We could hear them talking before they came in, announcing themselves and shutting the door behind them. Bobby came over and kissed Steph's cheek, bumped fists with me, and helped himself to a bowl, obviously thinking that Steph was actually going to let him have some of her cereal. Honestly, did the guy not know my wife at all? Sure enough, when his hand touched the box Steph used her wet spoon to smack his knuckle, making Bobby draw back and shake off the sting.

"Now is that any way to treat the guy who came here bearing an invitation for you?" Bobby asked her, checking his knuckle for signs of bruising or swelling. I'd been on the receiving end of one of her spoon attacks, so I didn't pick on him for it despite how silly he looked.

"What kind of invitation?" Steph asked, not holding a grudge about the intent to commandeer for favorite breakfast.

"We are going to Atlantic City tonight and wondered if you guys wanted to join us tomorrow for a day or two," Dr. Walker joined in, taking Bobby's hand in hers to stop him from babying it anymore.

Steph looked at me with a look of excitement, clearly broadcasting the fact that wanted to go. I shrugged, more than willing to go since she wanted to, and figured it would be fun to return to the place where we were married in the hope of making some new memories.

"Just tell us when and where and we'll be there," I said, speaking for both of us. Steph gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, approving of my words.

The next thing I knew, Dr. Walker pushed Bobby away and took Steph's hand in hers. "Good, then I need to ask you something important ahead of time."

Steph seemed confused, but indicated she should keep talking. "If I give you something to wear, that I've already gotten for you, will you come tomorrow in that outfit?"

Steph's forehead wrinkled in confusion, but she nodded yes before asking, "I'll do it, but can I know why?"

Bobby grinned as the woman next to him answered. "That's the way it normally works when you're a matron of honor. You have to show up and wear the ugly dress that the bride picks out for you, right?"

Steph's eyes went between Bobby and Dr. Walker before finding her voice, "Married? You guys are getting married?"

Bobby had a very self satisfied grin when he answered, "Yup, I asked her last night and she was kind enough to say yes. Neither of us really wanted a big fancy show, so we decided to take a page from your book since it obviously set you up for success."

Steph jumped down to hug her friend, and I realized that we were still in our morning clothes which meant she was jumping around wearing nothing but my t-shirt. Bobby must have noticed because he turned away from them and looked at me, obviously diverting his eyes away from them to say, "If you've got a decent suit in your closet I hope you'll put it on to stand for me too."

"Does this mean no bachelor party?" I joked.

Bobby looked down and shook his head. "Strange isn't it. A year ago I would have said the two of us were the biggest supporters of the need for a bachelor party, but now that it comes down to it, you didn't have one, and I have no interest in one either."

I put my hand on his shoulder and said, "That's how you know you're doing the right thing. When you've got what you want for the rest of life, why do you need an hour or two of someone you know you don't want ever again?"

Bobby smiled, "Thanks for not giving me shit about it."

Steph pulled the doc upstairs with her, leaving us alone for a while. I pointed to the living room, and he followed me after getting himself a bowl of Lucky Charms since Steph wasn't there to defend her turf with her deadly spoon.

We were still sitting around shooting the shit when the ladies came back downstairs and sat beside us. "So we're thinking that we want to go now and not wait until tomorrow," the doc began.

Steph jumped in while pulling off lint that I couldn't see from the pair of jeans she'd thrown on upstairs. "We can gamble tonight and maybe have a nice dinner to celebrate, and then tomorrow after your wedding we'll say goodbye so that you guys can be on your honeymoon, and we can relive ours as well." She locked her gaze to my eyes when she said the last part, and I couldn't wait. She must have seen it in my expression because she rolled her bottom lip between her teeth in that sexy way that made me want to draw it into my mouth.

Bobby cleared his throat, having spent enough time with us to know there was a point of no return and if he didn't interrupt soon we'd just get up and go upstairs, leaving them down here to figure out what to do on their own. I was tempted to ignore him and take Steph upstairs anyway, but decided against it since they were getting married tomorrow.

They explained that they decided to go ahead and take the plunge now before Amy officially started at RangeMan next week. The annual assessments needed to be done and Ranger wanted her to do them in order to check off the requirement and give the guys a chance to get comfortable talking to her since she was going to start keeping regular office hours a couple days a week in case anybody wanted to drop by and chat. The rest of those days she was going to go out with Steph and work on some mid-level skips or do some profiling work for us on our higher profile cases. Bobby thought those two days would be enough of a shift from her part time work at the local VA three days a week that she would be happy with her life here.

We hung out for a while until Steph and I had to get ready for work. Bobby and his fiancé excused themselves to go pack and head to Atlantic City, saying they'd text the details to us so we'd know where to go to meet them tonight.

An hour later Steph and I were leaving for Haywood, both sporting black cargos and RangeMan polo shirts. Her hair was pulled up in what she called a messy ponytail. I took it as an invitation for me to nuzzle her neck at will when she wore her hair up like that, so every stoplight between home and the office gave me a chance to run my lips over her skin.

We split up at the office and went our separate ways, me to finish up some paperwork and pull a two hour shift on monitors, and Steph to do four hours of searches for Rodriguez. I asked him once why he sent all his searches to Steph instead of using some of the guys in his office in Miami, and he laughed refusing to answer me. The next time I was down there, I was determined to call him to the mats and beat the reason out of him.

I sat down and pulled the papers from my in-box, going through the mail that had somehow made its way to me. Most of it was junk that I filed in the recycle bin under my desk, but the bottom of the pile was a large manila envelope. I opened it and pulled out a stack of papers looking at the cover letter for some clue. The letter was signed by Eric Johnson, the former administrative assistant to Herbert Stewart. He spelled out the contents of the package, including my official discharge papers indicating my full contract with the US government had been fulfilled. Additionally, there were some legal benefit forms for me to complete and some other random papers I knew I'd never read. But the last thing was a one sheet summary he had completed to go in my file that was marked 'Destroy after Reading'.

The paper gave the details of my being sent on a suicide mission by Stewart after he discovered I had seduced his fiancé years ago. Apparently, Maria had fixated on the soldier that had taken her innocence, and even though Stewart was banging her for less than honorable reasons, the fact that she was hung up on me was too much for his ego to take and he was determined to get me out of her life one way or the other. But after the intel Steph and Dr. Walker came up with was put in Maria's hands, she had no choice but to take him out personally, and then decided to just finish the whole thing by getting rid of me as well in order to move on with her life. Apparently, as a single woman in her country, she had very little say in her life. But as a widow, or a woman who's fiancé was murdered, she would be free to make her own decisions. Taking me out was just to be sure none of her activities could be traced back to her in Columbia. I didn't really need to know the reasons behind everything that happened, but it was nice to know the truth had been recorded and my record was sealed. I knew Johnson was a good man, and when he stamped my file closed it would stay that way.

I finished my work and went to the control room to pull my weekend monitor shift. When I walked in, I stuck out my fist and bumped knuckles with the kid behind the desk. "What's up, Williams?" I asked the Lieutenant in the wheelchair behind the screens.

He looked up and gave me the smile that was a part of what Steph called his hero worship expression. After all the shit went down six months ago, I finally got clearance to visit the families of the guys who served on that mission. Steph went with me and held my hand as I assured every set of parents and two widows that their loved ones had died honorably, and their loss insured security for our country.

The final visit was back in New York to see Williams. He was finishing up his PT. After the show down in the courtyard John had been required to operate on Williams' other leg again, and eventually amputation just below the knee was required for it as well. The infection that had set in couldn't be stopped, and they had to take it or risk losing him completely. The kid looked beaten down when I visited with him. He said he had no prospects for a job, no future, and couldn't imagine a life stuck in the chair. I knew what he was saying, so without thinking I helped him pack up the few things he had with him at the rehab center where he'd been staying and I brought him back to RangeMan.

Ranger saw me pushing a guy in a wheelchair and met me before I got off the elevator with him. He stuck his hand out and introduced himself to Williams by saying, "Welcome to RangeMan. If you can stand the circus that is this place, then you've got a job and home here." I'd never admired my cousin more than I did at that moment. I tried to thank him later, but he waved it off like it was no big deal. It turns out that Williams was a bit of a computer geek, so he pulled a lot of shifts in the control room, but he also maintained our servers in Trenton, and headed up the search department for our office. Every so often, I took him with me on a surveillance shift after I was cleared for the field again. There wasn't a lot in my life that I was proud of, but I felt like bringing that kid back to Haywood with me was one thing that I could feel good about.

We passed the two hours easily with our eyes on the screens, but our mouths running a mile a minute. The kid was a movie fan, and we played a quoting game where we would give each other a line from a movie and the other person had to try and guess what film it was from.

Before I could come up with a line to try and stump him I heard Stephanie come up behind us and say, "Honestly, Les, can you make it through two hours of any kind of sitting without playing a game?"

I grabbed her arm and pulled her so that she was sitting across my legs to press another kiss to that gloriously bare neck. "There's another game I can think of that we could play." I whispered.

She pushed against my chest, but made no move to get up. "Forget it mister, we have friends waiting on us, and we need to get out of here in five minutes."

I gave her a final kiss and replied, "As soon as my relief gets here I'll met you in the garage."

She leaned against me and let out a long breath. "I'm comfortable here. How about I wait with you?"

I couldn't stop the grin from spreading across my face. She didn't want to get up, and I had no desire for her to move, so I tightened my grip on her waist and held her to me.

"Shit you guys," Williams complained. "When are you two going to turn into old married people so that the rest of us can be around you without gagging?"

I laughed at his comment, but Cal's voice cut over my noise to answer, "Never gonna happen, my friend. With a woman that sexy, would you ever get tired of seeing her?"

Steph jumped up and hugged Cal, planting a loud kiss on his tattooed head. I tightened my grip on the arm of the chair I was in, wondering if a time would ever come in our relationship where I wouldn't feel the need to punch any guy that touched her.

Cal grabbed the chair I was sitting in, so I stood up and let him lower himself to the seat and tell Williams, "I've been looking forward to this shift all day. I've got some lines that I know are going to stump you this time."

As we walked away I could hear them both talking shit, and I smiled at how well all the guys had accepted him. Steph squeezed my hand in the elevator, and I looked at her face to see her eyes sparkling in a way that they only did when she looked at me.

"You ready to go back to where it all began?" I asked her as we were riding down the highway to meet our friends.

Her brow furrowed so I clarified, "To Atlantic City, where we got married, and our life together began."

She shook her head no. "That's not where it all began," she corrected me. "It started in the bed at night when you opened up to me, and we spent hours sharing with each other. That's why I fell in love with you. Every night when you pull me to you and we talk, we go back to where it began."

My chest felt tighter at her words, and as the silence stretched I wanted to try and lighten the mood a little to keep our trip progressing so I joked, "I knew you were only into me because of my skills in the bedroom."

She sucked in a breath between her teeth and replied, "Can you blame me? You're enough to handle when you're walking around all cocky and confident, but once the door closes and it's just us alone, you become something else entirely. No woman could resist you like that."

I'd said it many times, but I felt the need to remind her now. "No woman has ever seen the side of me that you have, and no other woman ever will."

There was silence for a few minutes before Steph spoke up. "You had a dream last night."

Damn. I thought after all the shit went down and Steph was safe that I'd put that crap behind me. "Did I hurt you?" I asked, not remembering any marks on her this morning, but still needing to be assured that I hadn't swung out and hit her. It was my biggest fear, and knowing I was still having nightmares brought my heart rate up from resting to marathon level immediately.

"No," she quickly stopped my spiral into panic. "It wasn't that kind of dream. At least, you weren't fighting anything, but you were talking."

That was a first. "What was I saying?" It might be embarrassing, but if I was about to go off my rocker with the only shrink I'd ever trusted about to leave on her honeymoon, then I needed to know what I was up against.

"You were mumbling about needing to get me to the hospital. I tried to get you to tell me why I needed to go to the hospital and you would say, 'the baby.' I rubbed your face like I usually do and you calmed down, but you moved me so that we were spooned tight again, and then you put your hand on my stomach and kept rubbing little circles. I think you were dreaming that I was pregnant." I didn't remember what she was describing, but as she said it I could easily picture it.

Our marriage still felt new, despite the hell we'd been through together. I was in no rush to change anything, yet the idea of Steph being round with my baby inside her made me warm. There was nothing I could do to stop the grin from spreading across my face.

"I think you like that idea," she guessed from my expression.

"Not yet, but one day," I replied picturing it so easily. "Yea, one day I would like that very much."

She put her hand on my thigh and tightened a little. "Me too."

I didn't think I could feel any closer to her and then she goes and says something like that, and I realize a lifetime isn't long enough. I don't know what Heaven is like, but I know I believe it exists. I get a little piece of it every morning when I wake up with Stephanie in my arms. And the idea of all eternity with her makes me yearn to know that what I believe is true.

We pulled up to the hotel address Bobby had given us, and I handed my keys to the valet and pulled our bags from the back. Steph put her arms around my elbow and held tightly to me as we walked in together. Our friends were about to take a big leap in their relationship, and I was excited for them. I figured they'd be okay. I mean, I'd seen Bobby look at his woman and it was the same way I looked at Stephanie.

"Do you want to go to our room first?" I asked, willing to follow her lead anywhere.

"I do," she replied taking me back to the words spoken at our own wedding. I don't know how it was possible that for a few weeks I lost the memory of marrying my wife. Looking at her now, the image of her standing in front of me and the justice of the peace was so vivid in my mind that it could have been just yesterday that it happened.

I found myself dropping our bags and pressing her into the wall of the elevator. "I'll never forget again," I said as a promise to her and a command to myself.

"I know," she assured me giving me the words that I needed even though I didn't know how to ask for them. "I know you won't forget, and neither will I."

The elevator opened to our floor much quicker than I wished it had, so I reluctantly pulled away and gathered up our things to get us to our room. I sat the bags down and turned to see Steph looking at me strangely. She opened her pocketbook and pulled out an envelope. "Here," she said a little nervously. "I'm going to jump in the shower, but I came across this while I was packing this morning, and I think you should have it. I wrote it the last time we were here, but I never sent it. It just seemed like the right time to give it to you."

With a quick kiss on my lips she disappeared into the bathroom, leaving me standing there with a number ten business envelope in my hand. I sat on the end of the bed and opened it while trying to keep my hands steady. When I pulled out a single sheet of paper and unfolded it, I smiled at the familiar look of her handwriting scrawled across the paper.

"_Dear Lester, We've done it now! We are officially Mr. and Mrs. Santos_,_ and I for one couldn't be happier. I know you have been trying to play it cool like you were okay with the fact that you have been called away and may not be able to make it back, but you aren't fooling me. I know you don't want to go, but you are too honorable a man to say no to your country. I also know that you'll be back. I saw it in your eyes when the man marrying us told you to kiss your bride. There was a determination there that went way beyond just trying to give me a kiss that would rock my world. You were pledging something to yourself_,_ and I know it was that you wouldn't give up fighting to come back home to me. I need you to know that I know you asked me to marry you out of love alone. The timing sucks, the fact that you're leaving is killing me already, but I accepted you for no other reason than my heart was yours from the first kiss you gave me_,_ and I wanted the world to know you were mine as well. So, while you are showering and getting ready to come out so we can officially celebrate our wedding night – again – I wanted to take a few minutes and write this all down because my head was swimming and heart was full__.__ I wanted to look back at some point and remember __that __I've never been as happy as I am right now_,_ and it was all because of you. I love you. ~Stephanie."_

I must have read her words twenty times and was so lost in them that I didn't hear her come out of the bathroom. She sat down beside me and leaned against my side.

I carefully folded the letter, knowing it would go in the box with all her others that I would keep forever as a reminder of what she meant to me and how those written words brought me back to life.

Then I turned to her and cupped her face and repeated her words back to her, "I've never been as happy as I am right now and it's all because of you." There was nothing else to be said, no words that could cover how I felt, so I pushed her back on the bed knowing I needed her to understand how deeply I loved her, but there was no vocabulary capable of communicating that message.

Our eyes locked on each other, and I let out a long breath. This woman, whose letters had rescued me in that hospital continued to save me every day with her love and support.

A quick glance of the clock told me that we had a couple of hours before we had to meet Bobby and Dr. Walker. It wasn't nearly long enough, but I was going to take every bit of it to love my wife. I wasn't the letter writer that she was, but there was something I needed to tell her, so I was going to try and get my point across until we absolutely had to leave this room. A contented sigh escaped her lips and I relaxed. She knew, she understood…and she felt the same way.

I guess I'd always done things my own way – backwards in a lot of ways. I had to be threatened with death before I could really live. I had to be weak and broken before I could find my true strength. And, nearly a year after getting married I had a diamond in my pocket that I was going to give my wife tonight. It wasn't too big or fancy, but I wanted her to have it and hoped she would accept it as a sign of how much I loved her.

Untraditional, backward or impulsive all fit the way we came together. I might have done things out of order, but I wouldn't change a thing. I'd never been as happy as I was in this moment, and I wouldn't change a thing.

_A/N: Wow! I can't believe this story is finished. Thank you all for sticking with me, even as my posting became a little less frequent. Your comments, reviews, and encouragement kept my fingers at the keyboard as much as possible even with real life getting crazy through this story. I'm going to take a bit of a break, but I'll definately be back soon with something new. Happy Summer!_


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